We All Cast Shadows In The Light
by starstriker162
Summary: It's been twenty nine years since the Promised Day, long enough for most of the people involved to have settled down some, try to recover or just lay low. However, for their children, living up to such legends–legends they often feel they know little about– isn't going to be easy. Especially not when they have their own challenges to face.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, thank you for checking this out. So you know, this story is mainly centered around the next generation, not the canon characters, although they do make appearances. I know that not many people are fond of OCs, so I wanted to give everyone fair warning. If you've stuck around, have fun reading!

* * *

" _I hear they're finally upgrading the tracks in the Eastern Sector," said Mustang, purposefully making his strides a bit too long for Edward to comfortably keep up with._

" _Yeah, I guess. It'll be nice for the ride to be shorter, but a pain in the ass in the meantime," he responded. "Though it does mean that we'll all be stuck in Resembool for– I don't know– a month? Probably longer."_

 _His old friend laughed at the irritation in his voice. "You haven't changed at all. Over thirty years old, with two kids, and you still want to go dashing around the country…"_

* * *

March 17th, 1944

The train ride from Resembool to Central was one that went through long stretches of farmland, idyllic countryside filled with grazing herds and vast wheat fields. Louise was sure it would be a pleasant sight for anyone not too familiar with it; unfortunately, having grown up in the former rather than the latter meant that she didn't find the scenery too interesting. It was lucky for her that she had brought a small part of her father's collection of alchemical literature with her to keep her distracted. With new, higher speed trains recently installed, the trip took them far less time than it had back when her father was young– it was now somewhere around an hour and a half, compared to the two, almost three hours it had taken him– but she had never liked sitting around and doing nothing. There was no point to making small talk with her father either– he, unlike her, seemed to appreciate the scenery, despite the fact that he had lived in Resembool for his whole life, asides from a brief four-year pause in the middle. She had asked him why once, to which he had laughed and responded "You appreciate things a lot more when you get them taken away!" and didn't tell her what he meant by that.

Louise felt the train slowing– not enough that they were actually at their final stop, but enough that she took notice of it. Her father had too, clear from the way he looked up from his window. "The place where we're staying is nice," he said, taking her putting her book back in her bag as an invitation to talk. "You'll like it. And you'll like Central, too."

Before now, Louise had never gone to the capital. She had been to East City plenty of times, both with her father and her whole family, and one time just with her brother when he had turned eighteen. She had even gone to Xing once, but her father's trips to Central to visit some of his old friends had always been a private affair, until this one. Not that she minded being brought along– the exact opposite in fact, especially once her dad had told her that she could go out on her own, so long as she was careful and didn't tell mom. She had eagerly agreed to his conditions, curious to see the city in all of its splendor without being held back by someone else.

Eventually, the train did come to a halt, the vibration of its movement against the tracks stopping with it. Her dad grabbed his bags, and she reached under the table between them to grab hers as well. Asides from the books she brought along, her bag was fairly light, something she had been sure to check. On her first visit to East City, she had packed too heavy, assuming they would get a taxi from the station to their hotel. They hadn't. Her father enjoyed walking, and showed little mercy to his short-limbed daughter. Once, she had complained about it and he had stared at her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement before finally telling her that if he had spent several years keeping up with her previously seven foot tall uncle, she could keep up with him. Another argument lost by her that just opened more questions about her father's past.

As they stepped off of the train, it wasn't surprising to see that many heads turned towards her father as he looked around to try and find an exit. People seemed to part around him too, leaving their path open once he started walking. "Look," she overheard. "There's the Fullmetal Alchemist, right?"

"Yeah, but who's that girl with him?" the person's friend responded with.

She didn't get to hear the end of the conversation, but she didn't need to. It was unlikely they would recognize her, after all– her father, though still a national hero and a well-beloved professor, managed to keep much of his family out of the spotlight. Louise was never sure whether she appreciated it or not– on one hand, she had seen over the years that not all the attention her father received was positive, as he had taken to throwing some letters in their fireplace if they were particularly obnoxious, but a small part of her wished that she would be seen as something worthy of admiring too. Louise wasn't talented at much, and what she was good at, she had worked hard for. Since she didn't have the advantage of being a prodigy, she'd have to take fame where she could get it.

Once they stepped outside of the train station, Louise was immediately struck by the size of the city. Her brother, no doubt, would have loved it, the center of modernity in Amestris, high speed automobiles whizzing past on newly paved road and buildings that seemed to yearn to touch the clouds. As she gaped, staring up at the skyline, her father started beckoning to her. "Come on!" he said, that childish impatient streak not all gone, even in his middle age. "If you want a chance to go out today, we'll have to actually get there before sunset!"

His fears were ill founded, of course, as it hadn't even reached noon yet, and the walk to hotel was far shorter than she had feared when he had warned her about it. Thanks to a generous stipend from the military for being a national hero, and his modest salary from being even a part-time professor, it was, as promised, very nice. Her dad chattered about how decades ago, the hotel had been very popular for visiting officers thanks to its location close to headquarters, but had always been open to the civilian public. She was far too in awe of the sheer size of it to closely listen though, lost in her own mind. They took the elevator up to the sixth floor, a small victory for Louise compared to their normal race up the stairs. Apparently, her dad was just as eager to get settled as she was.

Upon reaching their room, her dad dropped both of his bags and collapsed on the bed. "Stupid middle age," he muttered, almost to himself. "I'm nearly tired as I was as a teenager." Then, he turned to look back at her. "I'm going to sleep for, oh, a couple hours. If you want to go out, I'd just say don't go past 3rd Street in that direction," he pointed to the back of the room, as if that helped. "And 29th in the other. That gives you several blocks to explore."

She placed her backpack down on the ground and fished a smaller bag out of it, placing one of the smaller alchemy books in it along with her wallet, which contained a little over 3000 cenz. Upon much careful consideration, she had decided to take about a third of her savings with her, a hard decision for the normally frugal teen to make. "Yeah, I'll head out for a bit. Thanks Dad, see you in a while."

If he mumbled a reply through the pillow he had his head buried in, she didn't hear it, instead stepping out of the hotel room before taking the stairs back down. On her way out, she picked up a map of the local area, and waved to the receptionist as she exited. A quick glance at the map revealed several coffee shops in the area– she wasn't quite hungry enough to justify actually having a meal, but waking up early to prepare for the trip and not having time to eat breakfast so they could catch their train meant that coffee and something small sounded like a good idea.

The one she decided on was several blocks away from where she was on 10th street. Central was always busy, even during the work week, which wasn't something Louise was used to– East City didn't have the same population density at all, and she had to squeeze her way through the crowd. Still, something about Central appealed to the young woman, and even getting her feet stepped on several times couldn't dampen her spirit.

Eventually, she reached her destination, a cafe with wide window that wasn't quite filled completely, being just out of the range most tourists would walk and being past the morning rush. Still, not filled by Central standard wasn't not filled by Resembool standards– all the tables were taken, even if not all the seats were.

Louise ordered her coffee and a scone, figuring that someone would probably leave in the time it took her to get her order. She was wrong, of course, and was left standing around, scanning for someone who didn't look too intimidating that she could sit next to.

"Hey!" A voice called out, and Louise turned around to see a girl with straight black hair in twin ponytails, about her age, maybe a bit older, sitting a high topped table. "Are you looking for somewhere to sit?"

Deciding that she looked friendly enough and that she probably wasn't going to get a better offer, Louise made her way over and pulled out the other chair. "Thank you," she said earnestly, if a bit delayed. "I'm, uh, new here." She didn't know why she said that. It was probably pretty obvious.

Upon closer inspection, the young woman across from her was wearing some very strange clothes. Louise couldn't tell you if they were actually strange or just very trendy, but they managed to look good on her; the dark coat that she wore looked a bit too heavy for the season, but it looked well made, if well worn, and she even managed to make her odd hairstyle work too. "You do sort of look it," the girl said, a laugh in her voice. "So, what are you visiting for?"

It was also odd for this girl to just start up a conversation with her, someone who was just a random stranger. "Uh, I'm here with my dad. We're from Resembool?" Louise didn't quite know why she was acting so odd herself– normally, she could hold her own in a conversation, even with someone she didn't know, without ending every other sentence with a question mark. A bit aggravated with herself, she tried to bolster her confidence before speaking up. "I'm Louise," she said, extending a hand. "And you are?" Still a question, but at least it was intended to be one this time.

"Alice!" She said, clearly a bit thrown off by the handshake but still accepting it. Her name sounded familiar to Louise for some reason, but she couldn't put her finger on it. As she looked down at Alice's hand though, she was surprised to see an array on one of her gloves. At this, Louise laughed.

"A Flame Alchemist wannabe?" She asked a bit sarcastically, immediately regretting it. "Uh, not that there's anything wrong with tha–"

Alice cut her off with a laugh of her own. "Heh, you could definitely say that. My only defense is that unlike half of them I can actually do alchemy–but, yeah, these are definitely inspired by him." A fellow alchemist then? That was interesting, at least.

"Anything you specialize in?" Louise asked after taking a sip of her coffee. "I study it as well, although outside of theory work I can't claim to be particularly talented." She may as well be upfront about her abilities (or lack thereof). Her worst fear, after all, was someone assuming that her knowledge was equal to her skill.

If she was phased by meeting another alchemist by happenstance, Alice didn't show it. Then again, Louise supposed alchemy was more common in Central. "Oh, no real specialties. Kudos to you for having patience for reading all that dry alchemy text though– I tried studying theory, like, once and couldn't stand it."

Something about the way Alice said that made Louise frown a bit. It wasn't as though the other girl was being dismissive of here– not really, at least. But it still felt like a backhanded compliment. Maybe she was looking too far into what she was saying, but before she could stop herself she opened her mouth to talk. "What, do you not study at all?" She hadn't meant for it to come out so aggressive, but there it was anyways. Before she could take it back, Alice was responding, apparently having not caught onto Louise's tone.

"I mean, not really? I guess the stuff I know has just kind of come naturally to me. I bet I'd be really good if I actually did, like, any work." The last bit she said with a laugh and a smirk, like the fact that she was lazy was a point of pride for her.

Something in Louise snapped at that, and she abruptly stood up. "You know what? I just remembered, I have to leave now."

At that, Alice dropped her relaxed posture and actually looked a bit worried. "Uh, okay! Wait, where are you staying I could drop by–"

"No, don't," Louise said, already walking away. "Seriously have to go now." She finished, placing her scone in her bag and striding towards the door. One glance back revealed that Alice looked a bit distressed at her sudden departure, but Louise pushed her guilt down.

It took her a few blocks of gradually getting angrier before she realized that what she did had probably seemed out of the blue to the other girl, and was completely uncalled for overall. A block after that, she actually felt sort of guilty for it. For a few minutes, she contemplated going back, but decided against it. Alice had probably already forgotten about her, and it wouldn't take to long for the opposite to be true as well.

After about an hour of poking around in shops across the tourist district Louise forgot about her encounter with the girl, and after a couple more she became tired of the activity all together. So began her walk back to the hotel, only having spent 150 cenz from her stop at the cafe. She remembered the incident once more as she entered her hotel and saw someone with a similar coat, causing her to do a double take before realizing that the woman she was looking at was a few decades too old to be the person she was thinking of. It was once again out of her mind by the time she reached her room and opened it up.

It was only about five o'clock, and it looked like her dad had headed out himself at some point. Placing her bag next to her backpack, she reached into it to get her book, and curled up on the bed to read. Once she was about halfway through it, a knock at the door broke her out of her literature-invoked daze. The door clicked open, revealing her father, and a glance at the clock showed her that she had been reading for about three hours. "Hey dad," she said, waving at him.

"Hey Louise, good to see you're back. It's starting to get a little dark out." A quick glance at the window revealed that he was right. "How was your first day in Central? I'm a bit surprised I didn't see you at the library."

The thought of going to the library had occurred to her, but she had decided to save that for when she had little more time. She needed the whole day for something like that. "It was nice. I just looked at things, mostly. Jamie would like all of the tech here." Louise purposefully left out her trip to the cafe. Anger had faded to guilt, which had faded to embarrassment. Honestly, it had been an irrational outburst, even if she still didn't like the girl's study habits.

"Yeah, although I can't blame him for staying behind to help Winry. Not that your poor brother's going to get to touch any of her precious automail." Her dad had a point, she thought as she snorted in response. No matter how desperately her brother pleaded, her mom wouldn't let him tinker with any of her client's automail. It wasn't professional, she said, to let someone who wasn't officially her apprentice work on a commission or repair, nor was it professional to take a family member as her apprentice. Where she had developed this opinion, none of them know, but it didn't stop Jamie from trying to weasel his way into her lab.

"Yeah, that was a hopeless mission. Oh, where are we headed tomorrow?" She asked. "Aren't you planning on seeing Fuhrer Mustang?" Her dad and the leader of the entire country were old frenemies, who met every year or so to catch up. Apparently, at some point her dad had promised that he could meet her, since the Fuhrer had a daughter around her age.

"I was planning to bring you with me," said her dad, getting out his notebook and a pencil. "You'll like his daughter, you two have a lot in common."

Louise smiled and nodded, turning back to her alchemy book. After two more hours, her father had apparently finished whatever he had been writing and told her that he was going to go to sleep, and that she probably should too since they had to wake up at a reasonable time in the morning.

She thought about her day once more before going to bed, but this time it evoked less of an emotional response than it had before. Surely, the girl she had met was thinking the same thing by now, and it had been a one off encounter that wouldn't affect either of their lives.

There was no way they would ever meet again, rendering their ill-fated meeting, in Louise's eyes, completely unimportant.

* * *

March 17th, 1944

In another part of the world, far across the desert, there was another young woman waiting for a train, having finished a phone call with her older sister. It was late at night, just past twelve, and cold, the wind blowing through her light jacket. Upon further consideration, she probably should have worn something a bit warmer than her normal outfit, but she had chosen looks over warmth. One more thing sacrificed at the altar of looking good 24/7.

Eventually, the train rolled into the station, and a flood of people came out of it before she could even dream of getting close to boarding. After a few minutes, a man shouted out that they were now allowed to go on, and she scampered forward in hopes of getting a seat. In truth, she didn't think she'd have many issues– Amestris still wasn't a popular destination for most people in Xing, but she had her reasons for wanting to go.

She gave her ticket to the man in front of the entrance, and tooked her seat next to an older woman near the back of the car. The woman looked over to her, seemingly surprised, but to her relief, unrecognizing. "What's a young lady like you doing traveling alone to somewhere so far from home?"

The girl gave her best grin, setting her bag with most of her life savings in it right next to her, away from the aisle. "Visiting family!" She said cheerfully. "My cousins live over in Amestris."

Yes, it would be nice to see her cousin again, she thought as the train began to move, but the people she would be visiting weren't quite that. They were more distant relatives, ones she had only met a few times in her life.

Even if seeing them wasn't her true goal, from what she remembered of them, it would be good to see the Elric-Rockbells again.

* * *

Thank you for reading! This is my first long fic, but I already have a few chapters written. Don't hesitate to ask me anything!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, I'm back with another chapter. Just in case, this chapter contains mentions of racism, but it's FMA so that's pretty standard.

* * *

" _So, you're going to take up the Ishval Restoration project, Major Miles?" Said General Armstrong, not actually asking. "It's a good cause." Then, a strange moment of earnestness. "You're always welcome back at Briggs. Don't forget that."_

 _Part of Miles would miss the commons room, the tank trials, the god awful coffee, the General herself. But as soon as the possibility of this project had been raised, he had known where he had to go. It was part of what he joined the military to do, and he couldn't abandon it now. "I'd never forget Briggs, sir," he responded. "It's been my home for the last several years, and I've been proud to call it that. That won't change."_

 _After all, they'd been married for nearly three years at this point. Miles had confidence that if they could last through guarding the northern border from Drachma and successfully overthrowing the government, they could last through just about anything._

 _Four years later, four years of only seeing his wife for maybe a few weeks each year, Miles came back to Briggs. "I'm not staying forever," he said, and proceeded to stay for five years before Olivier decided it was about time that she (and their child) actually see the place he had talked so much about._

 _It was probably an impractical system, switching between the two places at completely separate ends of the country, but it worked for them, and Miles couldn't have it any other way._

* * *

March 18th, 1944

When he had first been transferred from South City to Central, only a year into his career, Lieutenant Lawrence Armstrong had been more than a little concerned that the relaxed attitudes towards his red eyes and darker skin that had been down south, where more and more Ishvalans were returning to, wouldn't carry over to the more militaristic Central. And he had been absolutely right, which wasn't exactly a surprise, just a disappointment. His father, while sympathetic, helpfully reminded him that if he thought what he was experiencing was bad, he wouldn't have lasted a day three decades ago. This was, to say the least, unhelpful, especially once his father started cheerfully telling him of the assassination attempts that he had experienced during his early days as an officer.

Still, despite the double takes that he received in the hallways, not every aspect of his being stationed at Central was worse. His commanding officer, for example, was not just kind but surprisingly competent, for all of her enthusiasm that he couldn't quite understand. At first glance, it didn't quite seem like she had the right temperament for her position– the key words there being "at first glance", of course. The Lieutenant Colonel was probably one of the best shots with their regulation pistols he had seen outside of the legends themselves, and had a sort of charisma about her that made her network of influence quite extensive. As for her personality, the only explanation that he could come up with (from the stories he had heard about her father) was that the sort of determination she held beneath layers of optimism was genetic.

"Hey, Lieutenant Armstrong! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Thinking of the woman herself seemed to make her appear. Yet another talent she had. He hastily saluted her as she continued. "Think you could come to my office for a second?"

She turned, not waiting for a response but beckoning him with her hand, her strides containing a barely restrained phantom of a bounce to them. As they stepped inside her office (shutting the door behind him, of course), she sat down at her desk before grinning at him, showing off her blindingly white teeth. "So, I've got some orders for you."

This was how she approached all of her subordinates when she had something for them to do– there was a charming over-the-topness to it that you either loved or hated. For this reason, people either ended up begging to stay in her command, or trying to leave it and go anywhere else as soon as possible. Lawrence had decided that he likely fell in the former category, as he had developed a trust for his commander from his first few weeks in Central. "Of course sir." He responded.

"Great! Good choice." If it had been anyone else, that might have sounded ominous, but from her it just sounded like genuine praise in his basic decision making skills. "I was thinking– we need someone to go check on the continued rebuilding efforts in Ishval, and I know you have a contact down there so I figured I'd send you."

Saying he had a contact was a formal way of saying that she thought he'd want to go see his dad, who had been working there on and off for the better part of thirty years (occasionally, he ended up back north. It was a confusing situation). It was another reason, a less professional one, why he liked her– his whole family was scattered across the country, so any chance he got to see one of his parents was a blessing. "Of course sir, thank you."

"Hey, no problem," she said, not even trying to hide the fact that she was essentially encouraging him to go take a social visit. "Oh, another thing, if you don't mind…" She trailed off, fishing around in her desk before pulling out an envelope, with an address written on it in loopy cursive. "While you're down there, could you deliver this letter for me? It's to a Dr. Tim Marcoh."

He gave it a once over, looking at the address quickly. The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before. "Can do sir." For a moment, he thought about asking whether this was official military business, or just a personal letter, but decided against it. It seemed a far trade off– he delivered this, and he got to see his dad. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, actually," she said with a familiar smile, and Lawrence felt his heart sink as she reached into her uniform's pocket. Sure enough, she whipped out two photos, surging over the desk to shove them in his face. "Look at these pictures of me and my husband! We just got married last spring, and we had just an incredible vacation in the west, and–"

He groaned to himself as she continued to chatter on about the photographs. Not that he could really complain– Lieutenant Colonel Elicia Hughes was still the best commanding officer he had ever had.

* * *

March 18th, 1944

Louise woke up when her father yanked open the curtains, letting sunlight stream into the room. At some point in the night, she had shoved all of her covers onto the floor, meaning that she woke up cold. When she sat up, her dad looked over to her. "Great, you're awake. We should be there in about an hour and a half, and I'm not paying for a cab to go a half a kilometer." Which meant that they should leave in about an hour. This was about just enough time, since Louise had developed the unfortunate habit of taking ridiculously long showers.

Getting up out of her bed, she stretched out her arms and yawned before heading over to the bathroom, then walking back out thanks to the fact that she had forgotten her comb. The golden hair she had inherited from her father seemed to have more of the Rockbell texture– thin, straight, and, most importantly, easy to maintain. Working the shampoo into her hair wasn't much of an issue, and it dried quickly, a payoff for how easily it became oily.

After nearly half an hour of dawdling, she stepped out of the shower, wringing out her hair in a way that would make a hairdresser cry from the harshness of it. A few passes of a comb was enough for Louise before she put it back in its usual ponytail, and she stepped out of the bathroom to see her father's irritated glance. Unlike at home, he couldn't say she wasted all the hot water, but he could still shake his head in frustration at her wastefulness.

She looked out of the window while waiting for him, staring out at the amazing view of the wall of the next building. If she twisted her head just right though, she could spot Headquarters from here, the intimidating complex rising up out of the city like a hand reaching out of the earth.

Her father came back out, and she grabbed her bag, deciding not to take the alchemy book with her this time, at a fear of seeming disrespectful. The walk was an almost pleasant one, since the sun was shining bright in the sky overhead, but the cold wind was just on the wrong edge of unpleasant. It was a relief for Louise when they turned the corner and the tall buildings shielded them from the chill.

Headquarters was no less impressive in person than it had been from the bad angle in her hotel– and the rows of stairs up to the main complex made her glad that she was so used to walking everywhere. At around the sixth flight, she wondered if this was her payment for taking the elevator yesterday. Eventually, they reached the top, and her father generously allowed them to take a thirty second break, citing his middle aged knees as the reason for the pause. Then, they continued onwards, heading towards the building ahead.

Louise couldn't deny that even with no knowledge of architecture, the grounds and the complex were beautiful. Back during her father's brief time in the military, the lawn of Central Command had just been neatly trimmed grass, but it now looked like someone had actually come along and given it some color. Trees had been planted to the corners of it, mid-spring flowers blooming from their branches, and the last stretch of road before the doors had daffodils lining the path. There was another edition as well, this one more somber– in the middle of the central courtyard, several pillars stood, engraved with names– everyone that had died during the coup twenty nine years ago.

"I'm sorry Louise, I'm going to need a second," her father muttered to her, and went over to the monument, searching the columns before he apparently found the name he was looking for, frowning as he looked at it, a certain shininess present that wasn't often seen in his eyes. She didn't intrude– it wasn't her place to, leaving her to stand awkwardly off to the side.

After a minute, he came back to her, not explaining. She was left wondering whether this was a special occasion, or whether this was a ritual he did every time he came. Louise had never heard about any friends that her father lost during the fight, just knew that her grandfather had died shortly afterwards of unrelated causes. For a moment, she thought about asking, but decided against it. If he had wanted to tell her, he probably already would have.

The rest of the walk to the Fuhrer's office was mostly spent in silence, with the exception of a brief stop for her father to talk to an old acquaintance of his– Lieutenant Colonel Breda, who told him that the Colonel– he quickly corrected himself to Fuhrer, which made her dad laugh– had seemed resigned to his visit, chuckling about how "Every time you visit, the man's self esteem goes down by another ten percent. None of the rest of us can get away with it, but you and Brigadier General Hawkeye sure can. At least there's two of you."

They spent the rest of the time talking about their mutual fear and respect of the First Lady, the aforementioned Brigadier General. "She's become nearly as feared as Major General Armstrong back in the day," Breda said. "Although she's less deserving of the reputation. General Armstrong really would kill you if she didn't like you."

Louise swore her father muttered "Yeah, she did do that a few times," but it was a bit too late to ask now.

Of course, the Fuhrer's office was up another few flight of stairs. Invigorated by laughing about his old friends, her dad left her in the dust, cheerfully mocking her lack of haste. She decided to not comment on his statements about his bad knees, instead just rolling her eyes as best she could. Which, considering she was a teenager, was pretty damn well.

One of the things she had noticed is the amount of attention her father got here– while he had only stopped to talk with one person, many more were talking about him. If she had thought the civilian populace was bad about their hero worship, than Central's troops were even worse. None of them mentioned her though, although she caught a few confused glances shot her way.

"The craziest rumor I think I've heard so far," her dad leaned over to tell her. "Is that I beat God in a chess game, forcing Him to give me eternal life." He snorted at that, an almost bitter sound. "Like that would do anyone any good."

She laughed it off, but tucked away his derision for those seeking immortality into the mental folder titled "Things I don't understand about my father, and probably never will unless he chooses to tell me". Still, it was a funny thought, especially juxtaposed with his constant complaints about the effects of aging and how her mom was constantly yelling at him for acting like he was still in the prime of his life, like the time he had chased a farmer's missing sheep all over Resembool and was surprised when it outwitted and outsped him at every turn.

At last, they got to the office. At the entrance were two soldiers, who both saluted her father when he arrived. "Major Elric," one of them said, and he smiled lopsidedly in response.

"Hey guys," he said, showing the other one his ID card. "I'm here with my daughter, Louise, to see Fuhrer Mustang."

The guard he handed it to examined it, checking it in the light to see if it shone, and then stepped aside. "You're all clear to enter, sir." Privately, Louise thought that if someone could actually kill the Fuhrer, they could kill the two guards as well, but that was definitely an inside thought.

As they entered through the double-wood doors, a voice she instantly recognized from the radio called out. "Hey there, Fullmetal," it said, and her dad huffed.

"Really? Okay then, _Flame_ , and hello General Hawkeye."

The First Lady waved back at him, ignoring the fact that he was mocking her husband (she, privately, would probably think the same), and Fuhrer Mustang looked to be an interesting combination of amused and irritated. "I brought Louise along this time." Her father continued, although Louise was a bit busy being star struck to actually contribute much to the conversation, which was rapidly moving past her.

Then, in a pause between friendly insults, the Fuhrer addressed her directly. "I'm sorry to say that my daughter isn't present at the moment. She's developed a habit of running off whenever she thinks she'll be involved in anything even mildly diplomatic." Then, it was back to her father. "Not that there's anything diplomatic about you, Fullmetal, but she wouldn't listen."

They continued to bicker and argue, and Louise found herself over by the Brigadier General, who looked like this was about what she expected from the whole exchange. She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the woman, who smiled at her concerned look. "They've always been like this, even when your father worked for him and was a literal child," she stated, staring at the two arguing men. "Not that either of them act their age, even now."

It was certainly a different side to her father that she only occasionally saw, she thought as she watched him shout at the leader of the country that no, he wasn't short enough to be confused for a half-insect grade schooler. She had seen him and her uncle or mom argue before –both seriously and jokingly– and couldn't help comparing the way they fought. It was like a glimpse into the Edward Elric she had been told about as a child, one that didn't have bad knees, or back pain, and could perform incredible works of alchemy with just a thought and a clap.

It was a reflection of the man that she had been jealous of as a child.

She was torn out of her thoughts by the sound of a door slamming open. "Hey mom, dad, just came by to pick up some stu–aaaaagh! Hello there!"

In the doorway stood Alice, the same twin ponytails on her head, the same dark coat that she had seen yesterday at the cafe. Alice, who was apparently Fuhrer Mustang's aforementioned daughter. Alice, who had just noticed her and was looking really uncomfortable with the situation, almost as uncomfortable as Louise felt.

"So you decided to show up after all," Fuhrer Mustang said dryly, apparently unable to read the tension between the two teenagers. "This is Louise, Edward Elric's daughter that I told you about."

"Yes, Louise, whom I have never met before," Alice said, obviously lying in a way that made even the blunt Louise cringe and General Hawkeye raise an eyebrow. "Whom I would love to talk to! But, unfortunately, I am busy, and must leave–"

"Alice," said General Hawkeye slowly. "You don't have anything planned for today. I'm sure you can spare a few minutes to talk."

Apparently having run out of believable excuses to not talk to the other girl, Alice deflated before inching her way over to Louise and sitting down next to her, staring first at the sofa cushion next to her and then directly at the bridge of Louise's nose, just centimeters away from meeting her eyes.

The Fuhrer and her father eventually went back to talking, but the Brigadier General kept those sharp eyes of hers on them, watching them sit in silence. A wordless exchange seemed to go from mother to daughter, and Alice stood up, earning her father's attention as well. "Uh, Louise and I… are going to head over to the library. I thought I could show her around." That edge of desperation was still in the other girl's voice, but whatever had been meant by that look seemed to have bolstered her confidence somewhat. Still, Alice quickly left the room, not giving Louise much time to say any appropriate goodbyes.

She trailed after the taller girl for a while, finally catching up by giving up her dignity and skip-jumping towards her. "Wait, Alice," she started off with, and received a slight head tilt towards her as acknowledgement. "I wanted to say I was sorry for leaving like that."

"I just want to know what I did to piss you off," muttered Alice, keeping her strides long. "I knew who you were when you introduced yourself, so I wanted to get off on the right foot, but I somehow managed to screw it up."

Well now she just felt bad, didn't she. After a deep breath, she decided to try to go with the openness and honesty route. "It really wasn't you," Louise said. "I'm just...I'm sensitive about the whole alchemy thing, that's all."

Her pace began to slow, and Alice's eyes had flicked to hers, her dark eyes looking so much like her father's. "Are we doing the feelings thing?" She said, shoulders tense, but her gaze still holding steady. "We're doing the feelings thing aren't we. Fair warning, I'm not good at this."

Louise laughed, but stopped when she saw the brief flash of hurt in Alice's eyes. "Wait, I'm not laughing at you. It's just–well, that's how I feel most of the time. I think I told my brother those exact words once. I've been told it's genetic."

The tension dropped off her body and Alice chuckled back. "Same over here. My mother's told me several times that I'm too much like my dad in that regard." Finally, her dark eyes glanced back to the path ahead, towards the staircase, looking almost as relaxed as when she had first seen her the other day. "Alright, there's no avoiding it. Let's be way too open with our feelings together."

As they descended, Louise started to explain. "I've never been a brilliant alchemist," she admitted, getting the harsh truth out of the way. "So I'm constantly overshadowed by my dad, even though he can't do alchemy anymore." Alice's eyebrow quirked up at that, but Louise stopped her. "Yeah, I don't know why either. But as a kid I really looked up to him and his achievements, but quickly realized that I wasn't going to catch up with him. So I turned to theory work, and worked my ass off to get as far as I could. I guess I sort of developed a dislike of people who I saw as talented, but unmotivated."

"Well that certainly explains why you didn't like me," Alice said, surprisingly honest. It was nice to know that Louise's openness was being rewarded with the same. "In truth, I guess I sort of feel the same way." Then she laughed, a lighter sound than the previous hesitant chuckle she had gotten out of her. "I guess no matter who you are, living up to legends is nigh impossible."

They reached the courtyard together, receiving nearly no odd glances as they walked outside. It was nice not having to follow her dad around, and even if she was going with the Fuhrer's daughter she still didn't feel that pressing weight of being ignored. "It really is, isn't it." She agreed quietly, and smiled at Alice. "Do you think I could try again? I'll be less of a hypersensitive overreacting jerk this time."

The grin she received in response was the best one yet, more relaxed than the one she had received in cafe yesterday, and far from the nervous thing she had gotten from her in the Fuhrer's office. "Yeah, and I'll be less of a cocky asshole. Acting like characters in movies only works if you're actually if you're actually an actor."

"What?" Louise asked, really confused by the last part, to which Alice laughed.

"Hah! Nope, all done with feeling for today. Plus, I really do want to show you the library." Alice quickened her pace again, but now it seemed more like a challenge than an escape. Though she outwardly complained about it, Louise couldn't help but feel the teasing was the other girl's strange way of offering her friendship. They might end up getting along just fine after all.

* * *

March 18th, 1944

About an hour and a half into his train ride, the train began to come to a halt. At first, Lawrence didn't think too much of it– it's not like he kept such great track of the exact time it took to get from Central to Ishval via train. Then, he started noticing the concerned muttering of the people around him. A voice crackled to life over the loudspeakers. " _Please stay calm everyone, and remain in your seats._ "

Ignoring this, Lawrence stood up and walked to one of the front cars, as he was still wearing his military uniform. His curiosity overwhelmed any desire he had to obey the order, and he had a valid reason to ask too. "I'm traveling to Ishval on official military business," he told the employee that was blocking the way into the operator's car. "What's going on?"

The man tore his eyes away from Lawrence's, obviously having seen the red in them, and instead looked at the ground in front of him. "The tracks ahead having been closed sir, unexpected repairs. We'll be stopping in Resembool instead."

At that, Lawrence frowned. "Resembool? That's not a large town. This train has to have a couple hundred passengers, can Resembool hold all of them?"

"It shouldn't be a problem," said the man. "While a small town, Resembool is a popular stop for switching trains. Everyone here should be able to board a train to East City, or Kaumafy, at least."

"Alright," Lawrence said, conceding. "When will the tracks be back up?"

"I don't know exactly when, but a few days. Likely no more than three." The man mused, and Lawrence's heart fell. He hadn't brought enough money with him to spend three extra days at a hotel, as he was likely staying with his father once he arrived in Ishval. It would be alright though– he'd just need to find another solution.

"Thank you for your help," Lawrence said, returning to his seat. About five minutes later, the voice returned from over the loudspeakers, explaining the situation in a friendlier tone than he had received from the man. " _We will now be exiting the train. Apologies once again for the inconvenience!_ "

The doors shifted open, and everyone headed towards the door, grumbling as they did so. No one was happy with the situation, and he saw plenty of people fishing around in their bag for money. Money that he knew wasn't in his.

Once off the train, he located a small bench and sat down, trying to think about what he would do. He had just over 2000 cenz with him– enough for the train ride to East City and the train ride back, but he couldn't stay somewhere for a couple of days off that, and that wasn't even counting food. Dejected, he sighed. He couldn't even just fall asleep here– he was still in his uniform, it'd be bad for public relations for civilians to see an officer asleep on a bench because he didn't bring enough money for a hotel.

"You're looking lost," said a voice next to him, startling Lawrence out of his thoughts. Next to him stood a young man, probably about Lawrence's age (a bit younger, actually. He looked around twenty, while Lawrence was twenty two) and looking really amused at the air of depression surrounding the young officer. "Are you alright?"

Now Lawrence had a few options here– tell the truth, or come up with a really bad lie. He decided on an abbreviated version of the former, to which the boy actually looked a bit happy. "If you need a place to stay, you can come with me. We've got a guest bedroom, and it's sort of lonely now with just me and my mom."

Lawrence's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss–"

The boy cut him off with a laugh. "No! Not like that, my dad and sister are off in Central, and my mom's always working in her lab, so she'll barely notice you're there. And you're in the military, so you probably won't steal all our stuff in the night. I certainly can't leave you here in good conscious. Oh, by the way," he held out his hand, partially to pull Lawrence up and partially to offer him a handshake. "I'm Jamie."

"Lawrence," he said, just in case Jamie had heard of the Armstrongs. While he did like his mother's side of the family (an opinion his mother ironically did not share), he wasn't up for questions about whether his mother had really wrestled a bear and won, or whether his uncle really did poke out a cadet's eye with a sparkle (true and false, respectively. Uncle Alex had only poked his cheek, it hadn't even drawn blood).

They left the station, Jamie explaining that his house was about two kilometers away. He had actually only come down to check on the state of the tracks at his mother's question– if it was an issue with wiring, she might have been able to help, but he said it just looked like a part of it had been torn off– but the walk was a nice one, especially with the sun still hanging over head. The house lay a bit away from the main town, and the road they took went through a pasture of sheep (Amestris's finest, Jamie had told him, leaning over the fence to pat one on the head).

The house they arrived at was a pleasant looking one, not too big and certainly not too small. It looked like a modest edition had recently been built onto the main structure, as the paint looked slightly brighter there than on the rest. Jamie took bounding steps up the front stairs, and entered without even unlocking the door–Lawrence guessed it probably wasn't necessary, since Resembool wasn't exactly a high crime area.

"Mom! I'm back! Train tracks are just ripped up, no wiring issues." Jamie shouted into the house, and Lawrence examined some of the pictures on a nearby table. Most of them had Jamie and a girl in them– his sister that he had mentioned, Lawrence decided. Many more of them also featured his mother, a woman with light blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, and another more familiar face.

 _The Fullmetal Alchemist,_ Lawrence realized, and took a look at the photos again. Looking from him to Jamie, he realized he could see the resemblance.

And he thought that talking about his family would be a problem, Lawrence thought as he chuckled to himself. Jamie was still shouting to his mom, telling her that he had brought someone along with him (he had received a "Not again!" in response, but it didn't sound truly irritated), and he wondered if he should even mention it at all.

"Yeah, the guest bedroom is this way– oh, you saw those." Jamie said, sounding only a little disappointed. "Uh, don't think you can ask me any questions about alchemy. That's all my sister's thing."

He smiled, trying to look nonchalant and relaxed. "Don't worry about it, I won't be weird. My mom's a general, so I sort of understand that. On a much smaller scale, but still." Lawrence hadn't expected to meet the Elric-Rockbells, well, ever frankly, but certainly not today. Not that he minded– looking at the photos, he felt the clear adoration that they had for each other, the sort that he was reminded of when he looked at pictures of his family. In the end, it wouldn't bother him to just treat Jamie like a kind individual that had invited him into his home rather than the son of a war hero.

Okay, well it would bother him a little bit. All sympathy and understanding aside, there were some running bets that could make Lawrence nearly 1000 cenz if he got the right information– but he wasn't going to do that. Even if he wanted to.

Still, it wouldn't be so bad staying here for a few days. He'd have to find a way to repay them, he thought as he set his bag down in the guest room. Maybe he could help out around the house, clean something, or help the infamous Winry Rockbell with her automail commissions.

(As he would later find out, trying to do anything like the latter would result in a wrench thrown with terrifying accuracy at your head.)

* * *

Thank you again! If you have time, it means a lot to receive comments, so please don't hesitate to give me one. Criticism is also always welcomed.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again, everyone! So, I feel I should mention something here–this story will contain m/m and f/f ships, and although they're not really the main plot they're fairly important subplots. Just among the OCs, but I know that's not some people's thing. Even if you feel that way, if you've been following this story I'd love for you to continue reading it, so please give this chapter (where it's mostly subtext) and the next (where it's more obvious) a shot. Obviously I can't make you, but I'd really appreciate it. Thank you guys!

* * *

" _We should call one of our children Fu," he had suggested to her, after their first daughter was born. "If we have any more, that is."_

 _It had been far too much work, in Lan Fan's opinion, to get the clans on board with the emperor not taking fifty wives, but as Ling had pointed out, under the government they were developing it wasn't really necessary any more. Besides, while ambitious and power hungry, Ling wanted to help his people more than anything else. It would never have felt right for him to damn fifty women to a lifetime without any hope of a loving partner._

 _That wasn't to say he didn't take a wife. There were only two people who could ever claim to have his heart, and the only one left was Lan Fan._

" _I suspect that you have another name in mind," she said, not angry, nor encouraging, just a statement of fact._

" _For the third child, maybe," he said. It would be an odd name, but Lan Fan was right, he wouldn't be able to resist._

* * *

March 18th, 1944

It was lucky for Lawrence that the Elric-Rockbells had their own phone, he thought as he dialed in the number, having memorized the line to Lt. Col. Hughes's office. After putting his things down, it was the first task he had to do. Currently, he was on hold, which probably meant that she was off tormenting someone with pictures of her wedding or her most recent vacation.

To his surprise, she did eventually pick up, answering with her normal " _You've reached Lieutenant Colonel Hughes._ "

"Sir, this is Lieutenant Armstrong," he said, leaning against the table where the phone was. "I've run into a bit of a issue. Apparently, the train tracks have been broken a bit past Resembool's station, so I'll be delayed by a few days."

" _Hmm, that's a problem. Could you go through East City to the Mouhed-Womiob station? They've got trains running down to Ishval,_ " came the crackling voice from over the phone. It sounded like she had shifted some, likely to look at the map she had on her wall.

"I don't think so, sir. Mouhed-Womiob would take me to the North Eastern sector's station, which only goes to the south or to Xing. Most of the rebuilding effort still going on have been in the west. While I could get alternative transportation from the North Eastern sector to the Western Station, it'd probably take me at least two days, since the roads going east to west are still dodgy. Not to mention East City trains to M-W station only run once a day, and if I remember correctly early in the morning. I couldn't catch the one for today, but I could catch the one for tomorrow if this is still the course you'd like me to take." It had been kind of Jamie to give him a map of the eastern sector's train lines. Otherwise he'd have no way of knowing all this.

" _Not worth it Lieutenant. Okay, I'd stay in Resembool then. You've found a place to stay, right?"_

She sounded suspicious of him, like she thought he had decided to camp out in a pasture for a few nights. Which wouldn't necessarily be out of character, but still.

"Yes sir, I have. A young man" –he decided not to tell the Lt. Col. who he was staying with. It wasn't that important, anyways– "has allowed me to stay with him and his mother while the tracks are repaired."

" _Lucky. Especially because the hotels are expensive!_ " She laughed nervously, and Lawrence couldn't help but think that this was because she partially controlled his salary and knew he couldn't afford them, not without prior planning. " _Alright, you're fine then. Just tell me when the tracks are fixed, alright? And don't lose that letter!_ " The phone clicked, signifying that she'd hung up. One of the things that he'd quickly learned about his commanding officer is that she was completely unable to say goodbye like a normal person, which was unnerving when talking to her over the phone.

"All finished calling her?" Jamie asked, peeking into the phone room. "I stopped hearing you two talking, so…"

"Yeah, I'm all finished." Lawrence said, and then decided to ask his question sooner rather than later. "Say, is there anything I can do to help? I feel bad just taking advantage of your hospitality." Plus, it'd be nice to not just sit around all day. He hadn't brought much in the ways of entertainment, and felt both awkward asking to read the books strewn around the house and uninterested in their topics. Both Ms. Rockbell and Mr. Elric seemed to have their tastes lying firmly in nonfiction, which wasn't what Lawrence would pick to read for fun.

"Eh, not right now. I'm going to check to see if my mom needs any help with her current project, but I'll tell you if anything does need to be done, alright?" Said Jamie, already walking towards his mother's lab, leaving Lawrence alone in the main part of the house.

It felt rude to poke around, so instead he wandered over to the lab himself, looking inside to see Ms. Rockbell talking to her son about a piece of the leg she was working on, though she didn't let him touch it. The scene was comforting to Lawrence– sure, it wasn't the normal family bonding activity, but both of them looked excited about the project. Automail was clearly something they shared, something for them to talk about when nothing else worked.

Sitting alone on the sofa, which he decided was probably okay to sit on after a good ten minutes of staring at it, he tried to think of a similar activity he had with his parents. Nothing immediately came to mind– not that he didn't enjoy their company, albeit in very different ways, but even temperamentally they were different. Lawrence had always assumed it was the generational difference– his generation had more trust in the system, less fear of the government suddenly turning on them. Joining the military was once again seen as a good and honorable thing to do, rather than earning you (rightful) scorn. Seeing Jamie and his mother interact made Lawrence rethink that– as much as he hated to admit it, maybe he and his parents just didn't have much in common besides their beliefs.

When was the last time he had a conversation with his mother that wasn't just them catching up about what had happened in the months since they'd seen each other? And the same thing went for his father– so much of the time they were working towards a common goal, but rarely talking. None of it bothered Lawrence, but it still made him want to try and find some common interest.

He probably sat there for about half an hour, trying to remember conversations with his parents as a child. Even after thinking about it for that long, all he had managed to come up with was a shared interest between all three of them in military history, although that was a stretch, considering that most of what Lawrence was thinking of had just been their lives. In the end, it took Jamie exiting the room to snap him out of his trance. "Oh, hey there Lawrence. Are you alright?" He asked, seeing the look on his face.

Lawrence flashed him a quick smile. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about my parents, that's all."

If anything, he looked more concerned by that. "Do you guys have a good relationship? You looked really deep in thought."

It was really strange how Jamie didn't quite get the social cue of "this is sort of personal", but it was almost nice coming from him. The earnestness of his questioning seemed more like genuine concern than nosiness, kind rather than intrusive. "Yeah, we do. I just haven't gotten to talk to them much anymore, that's all."

Jamie sat down next to him. "My family's all really close. My uncle practically comes over every week, since he still lives in Resembool. Apparently, before I was born, my mom, dad, uncle, and aunt all lived in Rush Valley, but mom and dad moved back to Resembool when my grandma died so they could keep her house."

Lawrence accepted the fact that he was going to learn part of Jamie's life story. In truth, he didn't really mind– he was fine with listening, but he just couldn't figure out why he was so trusting of Lawrence, especially since he had only known him for a few hours. Meanwhile, Jamie continued. "They moved over to Resembool a few years later, when my cousin was... two, I guess. Maybe you'll get to meet them. I don't know, I've always felt like Louise was their favorite." He laughed. "But Cousin Mairon likes me, mostly because Louise can't stand her."

Then he grinned at Lawrence. "Okay! I've told you something about myself, your turn!"

Oops, he didn't know this was a trade off thing. In hindsight, he should have expected it– even if it didn't seem like Jamie was an alchemist, he was raised by one and related to a bunch. Equivalent exchange– in this case, information for information.

Still, if that was all his host wanted, he couldn't exactly refuse. It was a small payment, and Jamie just seemed curious. "Anything in particular, or just anything about myself?"

"Let's start with something basic," Jamie said, seeming to sense that Lawrence was uncomfortable, but unrelenting. "What's your favorite season?"

His shoulders untensed a bit, relief coming from the easy question. While Lawrence was fine with listening to other people talk about their lives, he became nervous when talking about himself. "That's easy, winter. I've spent plenty of time up north, so the cold down here doesn't bother me anymore." Well, he was probably going to ask about that now, Lawrence thought with a wince.

To his surprise, Jamie didn't. "Winter's nice, but I've always enjoyed autumn. I can't enjoy spring, I inherited my mother's miserable allergies. Okay, what was your favorite subject in school?"

The tension further disappeared, since the questions didn't get harder or more complex. "I was one of the rare few that actually enjoyed maths, but in the end I'd have to say history," he said. "What about you?"

The innocent interrogation continued for several hours, with Lawrence even working up the courage to ask questions of his own ( _is it true that Resembool has a sheep festival? You've been to Xing? What was it like?)._ It wasn't as unpleasant as he had feared– if anything, he actually enjoyed it. As the sun began to set and neither of them made moves to stop the conversation, Jamie became a gentle sort of snarky that appealed to Lawrence's own sense of humor. The questions ranged from as simple as what their favorite color was, to their opinions on current politics (their views lined up nicely, although they had briefly argued over the recently implemented jury system. They agreed to disagree). The time passed quickly, and by the time they stopped Lawrence's cheeks hurt from smiling and he had developed a headache from laughter. It was amazing how quickly Jamie had made him relax, he thought as he yawned, his eyelids beginning to slip closed. "What time is it anyways?" Lawrence asked. "What, like nine?"

Jamie shifted on the couch, looking at a clock behind Lawrence. "Uh, not quite. Try one in the morning."

He openly laughed at that. "Really? Alright, I'll give you credit for this– I don't think I've ever talked for that long." Hell, his throat actually hurt, his voice losing its normal smoothness.

"See? Sometimes talking isn't so bad. You look way less stressed out now, too," Jamie said. "It's...nice."

Lawrence yawned again. "I should really go to bed. Thank you again for–"

"–Letting you stay, don't worry about it," he finished. "Go get some sleep, I can show you around the town and its two stores in the morning if you like."

"That sounds nice," Lawrence said, only half surprised he meant it. "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you then."

* * *

March 19th, 1944

Jamie ended up falling asleep on the sofa, which would explain why he woke up with a yelp and fell off the aforementioned sofa when there was a knock at the door. Rubbing his arm, which he had fallen on, he started walking over to the door, the knocking growing more frantic. "One sec," He muttered, reaching for the doorknob. Who would even be here so early, he wondered as he caught a glimpse of the first rays of light coming over the horizon from the window.

He opened the door, but before he could open his mouth to talk someone collapsed into the house. Barely dodging the falling body, he yelped in surprise as the figure hit the floor. "Gah! What the…"

The young woman had dark hair, pulled up in a short ponytail. Her coat looked more for fashion than for comfort or practicality, but her pants looked to be for travel more than looking good. She was also currently unconscious, at least as far as Jamie could tell.

A quick look at her revealed that she didn't have any obvious injuries on her body, but he couldn't tell if the fall had hurt her (she had fallen on carpet, mostly, but he was still worried for her head). Moving her to the couch wasn't an easy task– despite her shorter stature, she seemed to have a fair amount of muscle on her body– but he didn't want to leave her on the floor.

He debated going to get his mother, but she had stayed up even later than them, and hadn't left her automail lab until they'd both gone to bed. However, there was another person he could go to. _He did say that he'd help out,_ Jamie thought as he walked over to the guest room and poked his head in.

"Hey, Lawrence," he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. Apparently, the other boy wasn't a heavy sleeper, because he dragged himself up just from that. His white-blonde hair was in a complete disarray, and bleary red eyes blinked open– if Jamie hadn't been so worried for the girl, he probably would have found it endearing. In the current situation however, he had larger concerns. "I need you to come out to the living room."

"Gimme a sec," he murmured, slipping socks on and trying to smooth down his hair some. His uniform jacket was hung over a chair, and his pants were folded near them– he had changed into his undershirt and shorts for sleeping. After a brief assessment of the situation (which really meant looking at Jamie's nervous expression), he seemed to decide to leave his uniform be. "What's going on?" He asked, a little more awake once he saw a bit of sunlight coming in through the window.

"Some girl just collapsed into our house," Jamie said, going back to the sofa. "I didn't want to wake mom up, and you said you'd help however you could, so... I hope you can tell if she has a concussion. She hit the ground pretty hard."

Lawrence crouched down next to the girl, who was still dead quiet on the sofa. For a moment, both of them were silent. Then, Lawrence spoke, clearly annoyed. "Why are you pretending to be unconscious?"

Ignoring Jamie's indignant squawk, the girl's eyes snapped open, and a grin crossed her face. "Wow, you're pretty good. Normally people think I'm asleep." She straightened herself out, retying her ponytail and fussing with her bangs before talking again. "Oh good, I'm in the right house. I was a little worried about that, since I didn't get a good look at anyone here before my fainting schtick. Sorry about that by the way. Habit."

"How is pretending to faint a habit?" Jamie whisper-yelled, and Lawrence looked like he agreed, his arms crossed in irritation.

"It's a great way to get free food," she said. "Or a place to sleep. Also a dangerous way to get those things, as I've learned a few times." Then she stood up, offering her hand to Lawrence. "Hey, sorry you had to wake up for me. I'll make it up to you sometime."

Lawrence took her hand, slightly hesitant. However, Jamie noticed that there was a piece of information they didn't have that was generally volunteered at this point. "Who are you anyways? What do you mean, the 'right house'?"

The girl turned to Jamie, and he made a note of her dark eyes. In a way, she looked Xingese– the patterns on her coat looked familiar too, a pattern he recognized from his aunt's clothes. "I'm Tan Xin. I guess you could call me your cousin, and I figured since I was headed to Amestris anyways I might as well stop by. I won't bother you for long, considering you already have a guest." The way she said "guest" nearly made Lawrence's eyebrows shoot off of his forehead, and even Jamie caught onto the fact that she had made a wrong assumption. He chose to ignore it, if only for the sake of Lawrence, who looked like he was dying inside.

"Look, I'm really sorry, this is sort of awkward…" He said, trailing off. "But, uh, I don't have a cousin called Tan Xin." At least, he didn't think he did. Uncle Alphonse and Auntie Mei only had one child, and if he had any maternal cousins it would be a big surprise, to both him and his mom.

"Like I said, I'm not your literal cousin," Tan Xin said, sitting back down on the sofa. "I'm your cousin's cousin, but as far as I'm concerned, by the transitive property of cousins we're related. We've never actually met, but I've met your sister briefly. Remember? You were sick when she went to visit Xing, so you couldn't go."

If she wasn't who she claimed, then she knew far too much about him. Jamie silently conceded, then came to a startling realization. "Wait, wouldn't that make you…"

"If you're about to say a princess, then you're technically right. Although I'm definitely not the heir, so there's no need to worry about my safety or anything." She said, leaning further back into the cushion. "Oh, that reminds me, do you have a phone? I should call my siblings, if that's alright with you. I like to let them know I'm okay every once in a while."

Lawrence pointed her to the phone room, having just given up on trying to make sense of the strange girl, but Jamie hadn't quite lost hope. "If you're royalty, why are you here alone? Shouldn't you have guards, or be accompanied by someone?"

"That would probably be a good idea," she said, still walking away. "But I didn't tell anyone I was leaving, so it would've been hard to get that arranged."

"So you ran away from home?" Jamie stated incredulously. "Why on Earth would you do that? You would have had everything provided for you there."

By this time, Tan Xin was dialing in the numbers. "Look, it's not that important, but if you really want to know– oh, hello Sister! Yes, I'm alright. In Amestris, actually." At that, the voice on the other end grew noticeably louder, and Tan Xin winced. "Ah, yes, you can tell Dad if you like. How's Fu? Oh, really, again? Hmmm, he's taking his medicine right? Oh, okay. Right. Uh huh. Okay, so I'll be back in a few months. No, there's no need. Yes, I'm healthy and safe. With the Elrics. Yes. Of course. Okay, bye now." She hung up the phone. "Sorry about that, where was I? Oh, that's right." She started walking back towards the living room, beckoning for Jamie to follow, which he grudgingly did. "The simple answer is I left because I'm an impatient brat. Why wait to see the world when I could go see it now? Besides, you're acting like I'm completely on my own. I still have access to my funds."

This did not improve Jamie's opinion of her at all. So far, she struck him just as she called herself– an impatient brat. "All of the benefits, none of the disadvantages," he muttered, and she nodded along with him, apparently not sensing his tone or not caring.

"That's exactly it," she stated with a smile. "But that's only the first part. The second part is it makes my siblings look way better in comparison." Apparently, something showed on Jamie's face, because she laughed. "No really, it's true! The public isn't so focused on the fact that the eldest prince is sick all the time if they hear rumors of the youngest princess sleeping in haylofts, and no one bats an eye at the fact that the heir to the throne is bland with no personality and no backbone if I've run off to a foreign country. Now, you could argue that it's not good for public relations, but I'm low enough on the list of heirs that I'm more of a funny oddity than a reason for why 'Xing is falling apart'. The public views me at best an endearing but foolish child, and at worst a good for nothing troublemaker, but nothing more malicious than that. Again, it just means that Xinya and Fu look stunningly competent in comparison."

On one hand, Jamie was pretty sure that's not how politics worked. On the other hand, he couldn't really say anything to refute it. "You know what? Okay. I'm making pancakes, go ask Lawrence if he wants some."

Twenty minutes later, when Winry walked down the stairs, she saw three young people sitting at her dining table, eating pancakes. The first was her son, who she expected, the next the young man from yesterday, who seemed to be eating more syrup than pancake, and a new edition who had drunken two cups of coffee and was on her third.

Only Lawrence stopped to acknowledge her, waving at her awkwardly while the other two argued passionately about the right way to make pancakes. "You heat the butter first, then you place the clear part of it in and you cook the pancakes in that," claimed the stranger, to which her son shouted back. "They're pancakes! It's not that hard, you just put some oil in and it's done."

Well, he seemed to have this handled, she thought as she stepped into her lab. No need to interfere.

* * *

March 19th, 1944

After one of the most exciting breakfasts Tan Xin had enjoyed in a while, Jamie had excused himself to go see if he could help his mother. Unfortunately for him, he was still more underfoot than helpful, and if they ever wanted to go catch up with his dad and Louise in Central she needed to finish this limb. So, Jamie had to agreed to take them out into Resembool proper.

Her cousin wasn't exactly what she expected, Tan Xin thought as they walked along the unpaved streets. He gave off the impression of being a sweet boy, but definitely didn't appreciate dishonesty. If she wanted them to get along, she'd have to make it up to him at some point.

She was glad that neither of them had asked why she was in Amestris in the first place. That would have been harder to explain, considering that she's fairly certain all the information to that was still technically a government secret. It had been a stroke of luck that Tan Xin had found a lead on what she had been searching for since she was fourteen– her most recent visit back to her family had given her a chance to read her father's journal of his time in Amestris, where he referenced a being called Greed– exactly what she was looking for. The whole thing was encrypted, so Tan Xin didn't know the context as she couldn't risk stealing it, but she knew that word.

At one point, she had just tried asking him why he had chosen such a name for her. He had looked at her with a mixture of pity and resolve, like he was looking through her to someone else. "I owed that much to a friend," he had said.

If he had thought that the simple cryptic comment would quench her curiosity, he was dead wrong. In fact, it had increased it thousandfold. Two weeks later, she had taken the first steps of her journey, headed towards the Yao clan's territory to speak with her grandmother. When that had proved inconclusive, she had planned out her next move even more carefully.

The search had taken her three years– three years of her life spent on finding out this one secret of her father's, a secret that should have been hers to share in. But now, she felt as though she was getting close. In truth, perhaps the answer wasn't worth the effort that she had put into finding it, but she wanted to see that for herself.

After all, she felt she deserved to know why she was named after her native language's word for Greed.

* * *

That's all for today, I'll post another chapter Tuesday! Unless I run out of chapters, I'll probably consistently update every Friday & Tuesday. Reviews are still very welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! So, here's where one of the major plots starts...and next chapter is a big one too. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

" _I will never teach it to her," he said, unprompted, and Riza turned to look at Roy._

 _Suspecting what he was referring to already, she asked anyways. "What do you mean?"_

 _Their daughter, as of last week, was two years old. Already, she had her father's dark eyes and dark hair–she took after him more than she took after her, at least physically. Neither of them knew whether Alice would take to alchemy or not– but it seemed that Roy was already planning on that._

" _My alchemy," he said, smiling almost sadly down at Alice as she looked at the pictures in her board book. "As long as I live, she will never have reason to know it."_

 _It was a lie–there was no way that he could be sure of that. There were too many unknowns, and already Riza could tell that they would never be able to control their daughter–she was too wild, too feral._

 _Too much like the fire both of them had ended up fearing._

* * *

March 18th, 1944

The rest of Louise's day had been mostly spent listening to Alice talk about the content of Central's main library, which was about three kilometers away from Headquarters. The walk itself was much like the one there– too windy to actually be comfortable. At least, until Alice had taken off her coat and handed it over to Louise. "Here, go ahead and wear it, I'm not that cold,"

she had said, and Louise had accepted through her blush.

It was far too long for her and not broad enough for her shoulders, but she was able to wrap it around herself. After a few blocks, she gave it back to Alice, who had started to shiver in the wind. "No, it's oka– oh, alright."

The library itself took up several city blocks, and was a mixture of old stone and new steel and glass editions. Alice waved to one of the people standing at the doorway, who seemed to recognize her. Clearly, she came her frequently.

"I actually have a private room that's reserved for me down in the basement," Alice said without Louise even asking. "While I'm not a big fan of the typical alchemical texts– uh, sorry– I do have to do some reading. Plus, I like some of the chemistry part, just not all this bullshit morality and qualitative stuff."

"So, additive exchange theory isn't really your thing?" Louise asked, giving Alice a half-smile, who immediately tried to cover up her mistake.

"No! I mean, your dad's stuff– it's fine, just, yeah! Not my thing–"

She laughed at the other girl's flustered response, who seemed to have realized that Louise was teasing her. It was a fair trade, she thought, for striding all the way here while Louise was left tripping over herself to keep pace. Which, upon further thought, probably wasn't on purpose– Alice didn't seem to have many friends, or at least she hadn't mentioned any. She was probably used to walking alone, at her own pace, not having to worry about anyone else.

Alice took her through the library, showing her through the small fiction section, then to the much larger history section, were they stopped for several minutes as she and Louise looked over a recently written book on the events of the Promised Day. Neither of them knew what had happened themselves, having never been told by their parents, but even they could safely assume that this book, which talked about inhuman beasts attacking Headquarters from the inside, was complete falsehood. "Maybe we should take this down to the fiction section," Louise mused, turning it over to make sure it wasn't some strange sort of novel that had gotten misfiled.

"There's so many crazy theories about what happened. I've read even worse than this if you could imagine." They both chuckled over the ridiculousness of the mixed account of this one strange day, uncomfortable with the fact that as far as they knew, all or none of them could be right. After all, no one knew why twenty nine years ago, during the coup, everyone in the country had suddenly dropped to the ground for several minutes before the world returned to normal.

They continued onwards, towards the science section. "I'm not letting you go over to the alchemy part before I take you through everything else," said Alice. "Otherwise I'll lose you there, and we won't get anywhere for the rest of the day."

Something about the way she said that seemed odd– she had shifted her weight into her other leg and moved her arms up to her sides. Louise squinted at her, but didn't ask as Alice dragged her into the physics section. It seemed every theory that had every been written was contained within the library–truly, the science section was the greatest feature of the building. At one point, Louise had tried sitting down with a stack of books nearly up to her knee, but Alice had politely told her that if she didn't put those books back Louise was going to break something. Likely her spine, and possibly the librarian's trust in Alice.

Next came the biology section, which neither of them had much interest in but Alice was obligated to show it to her anyways. Then came geology, astronomy (and astrology), botany (which, for some reason, was nowhere near biology), mathematics and logic, and lastly the philosophy section, which Louise discovered that Alice actually read for fun. "Let me get this straight," she said. "You can't bother to study alchemical theory, but you're fine with reading about glorified mind puzzles with no basis in reality?"

Alice shrugged carelessly in response, not bothered by her harsh critique. "Some of it's pretty dry I guess, but the math part's cool."

Looking up at some of the signs on the shelves, Louise realized that they were heading down to the basement– and Central's extensive alchemy section. "Thank you for taking me here," she murmured, but Alice seemed to hear her just fine.

"It's not a problem at all. I admit I'm a bit disillusioned with it since I've lived here all my life, but it was nice to see your reactions to it. Hopefully this last part isn't what lets you down–I'll show you my reserved room too. It's way in the back, but it's nice." She did the shifting motion again, her arms coming up to fold in front of her.

In a way, it worried Louise, because something was clearly troubling the other girl. Hopefully, it was nothing major– again, it didn't seem like she got to talk to people her own age that frequently. She decided not to bother her about it– they were just getting comfortable with each other, and Louise didn't want to ruin that.

They walked down the cement stairs, Alice taking two at a time in a way that Louise was hesitant to try. From the certainty of her motions, she couldn't help but wonder how frequently she went down to the alchemy section– more importantly, from the way the other girl talked, she was starting to be suspicious of the claims that she had never studied theory. It wasn't like it was huge lie, and one that fit with in the persona Alice had constructed for herself– which was something that she noticed on the walk over, as Alice had become more and more comfortable with talking to her.

Before she could think any more on the topic of "Alice's emotional issues", she was tapped on the shoulder, only to see Alice with a toothy smile on her face when she turned around. Once she had Louise's attention, she simply pointed forward. Following her finger, she looked in the direction of the point, and nearly fell onto Alice's shoulder in awe.

In front of her lay rows upon rows of books, all under the greater section of alchemy, as announced by the sign hanging from the ceiling. As she gaped at the sheer size of it (the basement had to be at least half as big as all the other sections combined), Alice took her hand (which she probably would have been embarrassed by if not for her current state), and took her to the first row. "Before we start," she said. "I should probably show you how the place is organized." Then, she tapped an engraved plate on the wall. "Okay, so the first set of rows is all practical application, and that goes through about halfway through the second set. It's alphabetized by author. Then there's theory, organized by topic, then author name, and last you have general guidebooks or compilations by title, but for some of the stuff with arrays, you need special permission. Fortunately," she said as she reached into her pocket to pull out a set of keys. "I managed to get access to some two years back."

For a moment, Louise was still in shock from the initial reveal. For a few seconds she had made a high pitched noise that wasn't quite detectable to human ears. Then, she wrapped her arms around Alice's neck and squeezed her tight. "Take me to the forbidden arrays," she said, not thinking much of the affectionate gesture. "Oh, and thank you."

Going off of the pink tint to Alice's cheeks, she wasn't quite used to the same level of physical contact, but she had awkwardly returned it, her gangly arms wrapping around Louise. "No problem!" She said. "Uh, yeah, we can do that. They're not really forbidden though, not for us anyways."

As it turned out, Alice could only unlock three of the eight locked areas, which was still more than enough for Louise. "Do you know what's in the other ones?" She had asked once the awe had worn off a little, and Alice looked over to them.

"Not too much, no. I know that two of the locked sections have to do with biological alchemy, another's on combat, a fourth on chemical weaponry, but that's it. And I have no clue what the fifth one's deal is. I asked once, but they said they couldn't tell me."

Louise looked over to the last one, squinting at it like she could look through the metal board that covered it. "Must be really something," she said.

They weren't allowed to check any of the books from the restricted area out, but Alice, who still wanted to show Louise her private room in the back, said that she could bring the books she found (one on a theory about the nature of souls, which was encrypted, and one on medical alchemy, which wasn't, but was also written in Xingese. Louise supposed the latter had been locked up since some of the arrays could be used to work towards human transmutation) back there.

With an armful of books (she had taken some others that weren't behind sheets of iron), she walked with Alice toward a hallway in the back corner of the basement. Once they reached the second door, Alice pulled out her keychain once again, and unlocked it.

Upon entering, Louise was stunned by the amount of paper in the room. At least a dozen books had to be in here, and the walls were plastered with arrays, pinned up by tape and thumbtacks. On Louise's left was a long sheet going down, alchemical symbols and their meaning written on it in hasty chicken scratch, and to her right was a glossary of symbols representing processes. Asides from the normal books, spiral-bound notebooks (many with pages torn out, which covered the floor) were plentiful. From her current position, Louise could see at least six.

Alice closed the door. "Alright, so to tell the truth there was another reason that I wanted to bring you here. And, uh, watch your step. There are papers on the floor–you probably noticed."

She sat her books down. She pulled out a chair. Then, she turn to Alice. "What the hell?" It wasn't even that she was trying to be rude– there was just no other expression to convey the absurdity of this room.

"Alright, so that part about me never doing theory work? Absolute lie. Sorry about that. I still hate it though, don't get me wrong, but welcome–" She waved her arms to gesture to everything in the room. "To my personal research room."

"What...what are you even trying to accomplish?" Asked Louise, who was examining the arrays on the wall, trying to figure it out for herself. "Is this something new? Oh god, tell me it's not illegal." She moved out of her chair slightly. "If it's illegal, I'm leaving."

"What? No! It's not illegal. Just…discouraged. And it's actually not anything new– here–" With two steps, Alice had crossed the room and pulled off one of the larger sheets of paper to shove an array in Louise's face. "Do you recognize this?" She didn't wait for an answer, continuing without Louise saying anything, borderline frantic. "It's the array on my dad's gloves, so don't mess with it. But I don't think it's really the key anyways."

At the assurance that what they were doing probably wouldn't get her arrested, Louise had settled back down in her chair. "You haven't told me what we're even doing yet."

For a moment, Alice was completely silent– from what Louise could see, she wasn't even breathing. "You can't tell my dad," she warned. "I mean, I couldn't stop you if you wanted to, but–"

"Just tell me what we're doing." Louise said, cutting her off.

There was another pause, and then Alice spoke. "I'm trying to figure out flame alchemy."

All considered, that wasn't the worst thing Alice could have said in that situation. Much worse things could have been said, and had been said in the past. "I'm trying to figure out human transmutation", "I'm trying to figure out how to make a chimera", "I'm trying to figure out immortality" all would have been worse, but this was still pretty bad. "Really now," Louise said. "Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, your dad hasn't told anyone for a reason?"

"Look," Alice said, on the defensive. "It's not like I'm going to burn down Central or anything. I just want to figure it out– it's all intellectual! Besides, I would have thought you would understand."

"What do you mean." Said Louise slowly, wondering what the other girl was talking about.

"What do I– come on, we just talked about this!" She began to walk the length of the room– nervous energy, Louise guessed. "Both of us–we both stand in the shadows of our parents, that's unavoidable. All I want to do is prove to myself that I can be as good an alchemist as he is–you want to do that too, right?" Louise's frown intensified. "If you could suddenly become as good an alchemist as your dad if you just figured out one little array, wouldn't you? Louise, you'd do anything for that chance! And, well, I think you're better at this kind of thing anyways. Sure, I'll work on theory– sorry for lying about that by the way– but I'm not any good at it."

While she had begun talking while she was pacing, Alice had ended her plea in front of Louise– almost too close for comfort. Strangely, Louise didn't feel threatened–however, there was something that needed to be addressed. "That was a low blow," she muttered from her seat. "Using my dad against me like that."

"I'm not trying to be cruel," soothed Alice, who seemed to have realized their close proximity and had backed away. "But it's true isn't it? If it isn't– if you truly don't know what I mean– you can leave now. I'm not going to try and stop you."

Louise looked once again at the books on the table, the arrays on the wall, the notes littering the floor. Then, she looked at Alice–her gloves took on a new meaning, less of an affectionate parody and more of a desperate hope. In a way, she was stunning in her desperateness– it was the most earnest and passionate she had seen the other girl, far from her normal persona or the odd shyness she had exhibited showing Louise the library.

Maybe it was for that reason she opened her mouth to say "Alright, I'll help you," with near absolute certainty.

Alice seemed to collapse in on herself, her arms shaking as she carefully pinned back the array to the wall before collapsing in the chair across from hers. It seemed to take them both a moment to digest Louise's agreement, but when Alice did, she immediately grabbed the notebook closest to her. "Okay. Okay, so here's what I have so far…"

They worked for several hours, Louise brutally critiquing what Alice had so far ("Your fire symbol is upside down. That makes it water, you can't do that.") and Alice showing her key pages in the books scattered around the room ("This one talks about a Salamander, I think it's an important part of the array."). By the time they had finished for the day, Louise could barely keep her eyes open, and Alice didn't look much better. "We should head out," said the latter. "I'm sort of scared of your dad."

Louise put the book that Alice had dogeared for her down. "Really, my dad scares you," she said, her eyebrow quirked up. "My dad scares you, you say as we study flame alchemy inspired by your father."

"Oh, shut up," Alice grumbled, and they walked out of the room together, locking the door behind them.

Louise had no clue what she had just gotten herself into, but if it meant she got to see Alice smile half as much as she did today tomorrow, she'd do it all over again.

* * *

March 19th, 1944

It only took them a few hours to see all of Resembool, which included a trip to the farm supply store, one of three large shops in town (the other two being the general store and its competitor). Still, it was nice to be outside, Jamie thought as his two houseguests trailed behind him. Despite his initial dislike and distrust of Tan Xin, she and Lawrence seemed to get along just fine, and he seemed at least a decent judge of character.

He took them in a loop around the town, eventually returned to the side road that went up to his house. The return trip was always a little bit more unpleasant, as they had to travel up the hill rather than coasting down it. At times like this, Jamie could understand why having a car would be advantageous– however, even if he wanted one, the road wasn't big enough to fit one comfortably.

Upon entering, Jamie was surprised to see his mother reading on the couch, who looked up at the sound of the door. "You're back! Good, I was wondering when you would be. There's some good news– first off, the train tracks have been fixed going south–" At this, Lawrence visibly brightened, the slouch in his back straightening at attention. "–And I've just finished the last of the repairs on Mr. Oakes' arm. That means we can go up to Central and catch up with your dad and Louise."

"Oooo, Central you say?" Tan Xin asked, popping out from her place standing behind the much taller Lawrence. "Well, I'll be tagging along for that."

Oh joy, Jamie thought as Lawrence thanked his mom for letting him stay (and Tan Xin eagerly greeted her as "Auntie Winry") before dashing off to go change into his uniform and get his bags. When he came back out from the room (and thanked Jamie's mom, once again, who at this point looked flustered and exhausted by his sincereness), he was fully dressed, and Jamie looked away, lest he stare too long. He'd always thought the Amestrian uniform was strange (what was with that skirt thing?) but Lawrence almost made it look good.

Almost was the key word here, Jamie corrected himself too quickly. It still looked dorky. That was it– he was staring at the bad fashion sense of the entire Amestrian army. Nothing more.

Before he could reflect any more on this, Lawrence had stepped forward to shake Jamie's hand. "I should thank you again as well," he said, and no, he really shouldn't. "Say, I still have to go south, but if we're ever in Central at the same time…"

Jamie gives him a quick smile. "Uh, sure, I'll stop by." Not that he knew where Lawrence lived, but he felt bad asking now. He was a bit too much like his sister this way– he assumed that if he was meant to know something, someone would tell him, and if no one volunteered the information, he wouldn't ask.

It was a poor life philosophy, he thought as he trailed behind the more energetic Tan Xin and the more determined Lawrence on their way to the train station. But it had always worked for him– at least, up until now.

For once in his life, he had actually felt an instant connection with someone, but now it seemed as if the chance to keep in touch was rapidly slipping away.

* * *

March 19th, 1944

For the last bit of their trek down to the station, Tan Xin had stopped leading the party and had trailed behind to keep an eye on the straggler– Jamie, who had been oddly quiet throughout the whole thing. "Aren't you excited to see Central?" She asked, startling the man.

For a moment, he didn't respond, like he was trying to figure out what she wanted with this innocuous bit of information. "Sure, I am," he said, but didn't look any happier.

Looking more closely at him, Tan Xin wondered what could be the issue– he didn't seem physically in discomfort, she had barely said anything to him so she couldn't have affected him this much, he adored his mother enough that nothing she said could phase him, which left–

"So, what did the lovely Lieutenant do to make you so upset?" She asked, lowering her voice and watching how his eyes flicked to him every time he didn't think anyone else was looking. "Hmm, or maybe you're just sad you won't get to see him for a while? There's nothing stopping you from traveling to see him every once he's back in Central–you're an adult, part of me's surprised you haven't tried to leave home all together."

Checking to make sure that Lawrence was still out of earshot, he leaned over to her. "Look, please just leave me alone. It's not very likely that I ever will see him again– Amestris is a big place, you don't exactly just run into people."

"Well, now why do you say that?" She said, tilting her head like a confused dog. "I heard him say that you were free to visit whenever you liked–and again, you're an adult. If you want to go to Central to visit him, why not? It'd be good for you too–it doesn't seem like you have many friends." At that last part, he tried to sputter his way through an excuse, but she ignored him. "What, am I reading this wrong? Do you actually secretly hate him or something?"

"What part of 'leave me alone' didn't you get," he muttered under his breath, but not quite quietly enough that Tan Xin couldn't still hear him. Then, back to her. "He didn't give me his address. It's obvious that he doesn't really want me to–"

"Hey Lawrence, what's your address?" She shouted out, and now that the attention was on her Jamie couldn't exactly stop her from talking.

The man turned around. "Huh? Oh, I live on 3808 16th Street, room 612. It's like, a grey-blue building. Do you want me to write that down?"

Giving a triumphant and not at all subtle smile to the quietly dying inside Jamie, Tan Xin paused to reach into her small bag for a pen. Then, she grabbed Jamie's hand and wrote down the address onto the back of it (all while he still seemed to be moderately stunned by the simplicity of her solution, or maybe just because Lawrence and his mother were still staring at them). "There, now you can't forget it," she said, patting his head (a bit condescendingly) before jogging ahead to catch up with Lawrence.

"What was that all about?" He asked, giving her a little half-smile.

"Oh, nothing," she laughed, tucking her pen back in her bag. "Say, how far do we have until we get there, anyways?"

Jamie's mother smiled at her. "It shouldn't be long now."

They reached the station without anymore difficulties, Lawrence leaving the group first as an announcer called out that a train headed south would be leaving shortly. After buying his ticket, he briefly darted back to them to talk to Jamie one last time. "Seriously though, don't hesitate to stop by sometime. Although, maybe not for awhile, since I won't actually be home."

"Uh, alright," Jamie said, looking back down at his inked on hand, and then slightly at Tan Xin. "I will. And you're free to call anytime–you know our phone number, right?"

"Sure do," Lawrence said, pulling out a card from his uniform pocket with the number written on it. In the distance, a whistle sounded, and he startled. "Ah, that's me. Have a safe trip to Central, and–"

"If you thank me again, I'll kick you in the shins," said Winry, still smiling at him as he balked. "And have a safe trip as well."

Giving one last awkward wave to them (and a moderately frightened look at Winry), Lawrence left them, picking up speed as he heard the second whistle. Soon, he had boarded the train and was completely out of sight.

Tan Xin sat down next to Jamie, who had collapsed on one of the benches and was staring silently off into space. "You're alright, right?" She asked. "Are you nervous about travel or something?"

"Do you always ask obnoxious questions, or are you actually quiet occasionally?" He said in response, rubbing at his forehead before he apparently realized he had said that out loud. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm just–just super out of it right now–"

Maybe she was a little hurt, but that didn't matter right now. She faked a smile and told him that she didn't care, she was the youngest sibling in her family after all– being obnoxious came with the title. After reassuring him enough, she started chatting with her "Aunt" Winry some. She was an interesting woman–clearly devoted to her profession, which Tan Xin could appreciate. The best part was probably that she was a little more willing to give Tan Xin information on her father's past, telling her stories that she had never even heard of. Some of them were familiar, of course–Winry told her about how Edward had met her mother and father, and how they broke into the hotel, but also told her about how she had argued with Lan Fan after she had received her automail for not being allowed to repair it. Deciding to try her luck, Tan Xin asked what she thought should be a fairly safe question.

"How did my mother lose her arm?" She asked with a frown. "I've always wondered, but it never felt right to ask." Which was a complete lie. She had asked her mother several times, but had always gotten the same non-response–"It's unimportant."

To her disappointment, Winry stumbled over the words too. "Oh, well–that's probably something you should hear from your parents," said the older woman. "I wouldn't feel right revealing something like that. Oh, how about I tell you about the first time I went to Xing?"

Tan Xin politely agreed, but before she could start another train whistle blew, and a woman shouted out that this one was for Central. Hastily, they gathered their bags and presented their tickets (which Winry and Jamie had bought separately from her) and walked onto the train, fortunately finding seats quickly thanks to the fact that the only stop before them was Ishval–which wasn't a very popular line. They sat down together, and Winry continued her story, with Jamie listening along as well.

After that, Winry began to ask a little about her situation, gaining the gist of it from her son but clearly wanting to know more about the girl. Some of the questions she evaded ("So, what brings you to Amestris?" "How does Ling feel about this?" "You haven't had any issues on the road, right?"), but to her relief Winry didn't seem as concerned as she had assumed she would be. That was likely due to her own childhood–from what she had heard from her own parents, Winry and the Elrics had wandered around Amestris quite a bit when they were her age, so the fact that she was doing the same probably didn't alarm them as much as it would any other adult. For the most part, the questions were innocuous, and she happily chattered for most of the trip about her time in Xing (and Heza, which she visited briefly. Not for her main goal, but just for a short break from Xing and all of the pressure). Used to long train rides from her travels back home (once, she had traveled top to bottom of Xing. Nearly twenty hours later, she hadn't ever wanted to look at a train again), the ride didn't seem to take that long, and only made two other stops along the way. They reached Central without any difficulties, all of them waiting for everyone to pass before getting off.

Once they were at the station, a man who had to be her Uncle Ed called out to them. "Over here!" He shouted, waving to them.

After his wife and son greeted him (they both hugged him, and Tan Xin smiled at the closeness of the family), he looked at her. "Tan Xin, good to see you again," he said, patting her gently on the shoulder. "So, why have I been getting phone calls from Ling about you running off?"

"Probably because I ran off," she said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine Uncle Ed."

For a moment he looked like he was going to argue with her, but in the end he shrugged. "I'd stop you, but that'd certainly make me a hypocrite. Come on, we'll pay for your hotel room. If you want to see Louise again, she's over in the library with a friend."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about paying for my room, I can do that just fine. I still have access to my funds after all," she said, walking to a nearby stand filled with maps of Central. "What hotel are you staying in?"

Her uncle walked over and examined the map himself, before pointing to an intersection that was (from a brief glance at the measurement at the bottom) probably about two kilometers away. "Ah, thanks," she said. "Well, I'll see you around. I'm going to go find Louise first, then I'll probably go get a room for the night."

He shrugged, but didn't protest. "Alright, stay safe. Tell Louise she has to come back eventually."

Agreeing to the man's singular demand (and overhearing Winry telling Ed that he shouldn't let their daughter wander around Central, which made Tan Xin laugh. Apparently, if the woman had any overprotectiveness it was all used up on her own children), she decided to walk over to the library instead of getting a taxi. It was only about three or four in the afternoon– she wasn't in a huge rush, and she doubted that Louise, from what she remembered of her, would leave the library before someone made her.

Eventually, she reached the large stone building, and asked the nearby librarian if she had seen a blonde haired girl with a bag full of books and a near constant scowl on her face come in with somebody else today. Apparently, the librarian had seen nearly a dozen people with that description today–right, being blonde was common here–but upon adding the detail her name was Louise Elric she pointed her to one of the private rooms. "Now, don't go barging in there, she and her friend are working," said the woman, and Tan Xin smiled and nodded before going downstairs to do just that.

The woman had told her that it would be the second room, way in the back. As she made her way through the rows, she couldn't help but let out a low whistle at the amount of knowledge in one place. Central's library certainly rivaled–if not beat–the palace's library.

Upon reaching the door, she decided that instead of trying to pick the lock (of course it was locked), she should probably try knocking first. They sounded louder in the quiet building, and after a moment's pause the door creaked open a smidge. "Uh, who is it?" That was certainly Louise.

"Hello Louise! It's your cousin–I was told you would be down here, so do you mind if I come in?"

Another voice muttered to Louise, and the door nearly closed completely as she responded. Tan Xin heard the sound of papers being shuffled around, and a muffled swear as something heavy dropped to the floor. Then, the door opened again. "Oh, hey Tan Xin! Yeah, come in," Louise said, and Tan Xin peered into the room to see another girl their age with black ponytails, who was trying not to make eye contact but failed when she looked over to do a once-over of Tan Xin.

"Hey," said the other girl, waving while still not really looking at her. "Uh, I'm Alice. You're…"

"Tan Xin," she said, waving back. "Louise is sort of my cousin," –Louise muttered under her breath that she really wasn't– "So I thought I'd stop by."

"Wait, why are you even in Amestris?" Louise asked, inserting herself into the introductions. "Is Emperor Ling here?"

"Oh, no, I'm travelling alone," she said, examining the room. It was covered wall to wall with alchemical arrays of varying degrees of complexity. After a few seconds, she began to notice that the styles were entirely Amestrian, with not a hint of alkahestry to be found. She couldn't help but wonder whether it was a disdain for her country's alchemy, or genuine ignorance. "So, why are you hiding away here?" She asked, turning back to examine Alice.

The other girl looked uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but at least she had a united front with Louise. "We're doing theory work together," she said slowly, looking over to the latter as she talked. "It's nothing much though."

The name "Alice" sounded oddly familiar to Tan Xin, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it until she got a good look at her eyes. Suddenly, she was much less concerned with figuring out what the pair of shady girls were working on and more with the idea that she might have just stumbled into politics without even knowing it. "Say, are you Alice Mustang?"

She barely looked phased, just kind of tired. "Yeah, that's– that's me. I'm the Fuhrer's daughter."

Interestingly enough, Alice didn't seem to recognize her at all, nor her name. Considering the lack of confusion at it, she guessed that the other girl didn't even speak Xingese. An unfortunate trait in the daughter of a country's leader, but Tan Xin supposed she couldn't say much on the matter, since she had plenty of unfortunate traits to go around. "Well, that's quite unusual luck I have." Then, she figured she may as well play her hand. "Say, for your theory work. I can't help but notice you don't have any alkahestry in the room–not to be nosy, but why not?"

Out of the corner of her eye, where Louise was standing, she saw the blonde tilt her head in consideration. However, she still kept her focus on Alice–once she revealed who she was, Tan Xin had realized that it might be useful to have a contact so high up in Amestrian society. Not that the Elrics weren't, but the connection was less formal–they were more folk heroes than leaders.

"Actually," Alice said, still glancing at Louise every once in a while but now meeting Tan Xin's eyes. "That would be pretty great."

"Wonderful! Well, to get started, I'll have to know what it is you're working on. Without that, I won't be able to help much," she said, hoping that would be enough to get the girl talking.

It wasn't. Alice shut down with a frown on her face. "I'm not really sure…" She said, trailing off.

Then, that meant it was time for Tan Xin's gamble. "Alright, tell you what. You're an alchemist, right? Information for information–you tell me your secret in exchange for one of mine." Hopefully, Alice would take the bait–in truth, Tan Xin didn't really need this information. But then again, it could be helpful, you never knew.

For a moment, Alice didn't look like she was going to take it. But Louise spoke up. "Alice, if it's worth it, I think I know what she's going to tell you. It's a good deal, and Tan Xin won't tell anyone."

Maybe they were closer than Tan Xin had presumed at first, because Alice looked immediately soothed by Louise's words. "If you say so," she agreed, and turned to look Tan Xin directly in the eyes. "I'm working on the theory of flame alchemy. Now, what's yours?"

Direct and straight to the point–once this girl got down to business, Tan Xin actually sort of admired her. "Hmmm! Well, that is a lofty goal. I suppose I should tell you mine now," she said, not actually asking a question. "Alright, I'm the third child of Emperor Ling. So, it's a pleasure to meet you in particular!"

Alice did actually look surprised at that, but it quickly faded to moderate annoyance. "You know, I could have figured that out from looking at a newspaper from a few years ago. Is that really it? I mean, no offense, but–"

"–If you really want something more," Tan Xin said. "I can do that. I suppose this one is more of a fair trade, anyways–our motivations, our drive. Would you like to know?"

Louise moved around the table so she was standing next to Alice. "I can't help but be a little curious myself. Is this related to you being in Amestris?"

"It is, actually." She smiled at the two of them, surprising herself with how far she was willing to go to earn their trust. "I'm here to find out the true meaning of my name, and more about my family's past–whatever made my father become Emperor started here, in this country, and I'm tired of having it be a secret."

At that, something in Alice's eyes shone. It was a familiar sort of burning, one that Tan Xin hoped was in her eyes too. "That's something I can certainly relate to–we can certainly relate to." Another look at Louise, who was staring intently at her cousin.

"I'm glad that you see it the same way," she responded with a smile. "It will be useful to work together, I believe–secrets often hide others of their kind."

"Then it's set," said Louise, putting herself back into negotiations. "We'll all work together on Alice's flame alchemy–and maybe afterwards, we can help Tan Xin with her questions."

As a sign of respect, she extended her hand. "Sounds good to me."

Alice took it, and shook it hard enough that her thumb dug into Tan Xin's hand. "It's a deal then."

With their hands clasped, Louise standing by to witness the daughter of the Fuhrer and a daughter of the Emperor make their first deal, and as they looked into each other's dark eyes, they saw themselves shining back.

Yes, this would be a glorious partnership.

* * *

This...is actually the longest one I have so far. Sorry if you were hoping for chapters consistently this length! Thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

_A_ nd I'm back! Sorry for super gratuitous non-next gen OCs in this chapter but...they'll be regulars from here on out, fair warning. By the way, I'm not a great artist, but at the end of...chapter 8, or so, I was planning on finding a way to post a bunch of the art I've drawn for this so far, if anyone's interested. That way you'll all be able to appreciate Tan Xin's god awful fashion sense...someone stop her...I didn't think anyone could out do Envy and Greed before I drew her, but nope, here she is...

* * *

 _Apparently, the reason that Drachma hadn't been seen anywhere near Briggs for the last few months was because of a coup. You'd have to forgive Olivier if she laughed at that–now she understood how those bastards had felt when she had been absent from the wall. The urge to strike while they were weak was there, beat them back until they were knocked firmly into the frozen hell they called their homeland, but the newly appointed Fuhrer Mustang had a different idea._

" _The rebel government is more likely to agree to peace negotiations, from what we know of them," he said, and Olivier hated she had to take orders from this man. It was, perhaps, the ultimate disgrace of her career. "If we can infiltrate them, put the dissenters in power, then we might be looking at an armistice in our near future."_

 _Most of all, she hated it when he had a point. "We'll have our best men on it," she responded. "Before the Tzar knows it, he'll be out of power."_

* * *

March 25th, 1944

For six days, they worked together on the array, going through several dozen failed drafts before reaching their current one, which still produced nothing more than a brief spark, then smoke. After the third attempt with that model, Tan Xin patted Alice on the head, and then proceeded to rip the page in half.

"Tan Xin, what the hell," said Alice, sounding less annoyed than just plain exhausted.

"It wasn't going to work," she responded. "I think you knew that. If you need it for reference still, we can just place the two halves back together."

While the two argued over the logic of symbolically ripping their most successful theory so far in half, Louise rubbed her eyes in an effort to keep them open as she stared at what had to be one of the driest textbooks in existence–this one covering various kinds of gases. After a couple days of research, she had discovered that she did her best work while sitting on the floor, rather than in the spindly wooden chairs. Tan Xin had found her place sitting on the table, much to Alice's chagrin, while the latter just sat in the chairs provided. It seemed she was the most normal one there.

The whole chapter was on oxygen, and had drawn Louise in from her initial scan of the it–unfortunately, the section that she had looked at was only a few pages long, and while it talked about flame alchemy in passing it didn't have much beyond that brief mention. Maybe making a stream of oxygen from the alchemist to the target, she thought, but then discarded. It would take too long, wouldn't make any sense in a fight.

One of the useful things that they had found out though, was the fact that some of the books of legends shouldn't be discarded. Tan Xin had told them about the Salamander and the Phoenix–the latter of which she knew more about, but the former was good too–and had worked with them to create alchemical symbols based on the two animals. If nothing else, it would be interesting to publish that–but Louise knew that publishing their research wasn't actually their goal. A shame, if they did end up figuring it out. Then again, it was probably so well hidden for a reason.

"We should stop for today," she suggested, and the two other girls looked up from their argument to look at her. "We aren't getting any closer, not without some sleep."

"You only have a few days left, though," said Alice, who looked disappointed at herself for mentioning it. "We've already gotten so far in–as much as I complain, this is the closest I've ever been. C'mon, just a little later?"

Louise looked at her watch, which her mom had made her wear after she had appeared back at the hotel at ten one night. "It's already seven, Alice," she said. "I don't want to get yelled at again."

"That late?" Tan Xin muttered, almost to herself. "We reall should get going."

"Alright, fine," Alice groaned, trying to get a paper that was stuck under Tan Xin's foot (which, with a glare, was finally retrieved). "You guys stay safe, alright? Even you, you little gremlin," she said, turning to Tan Xin.

"We'll be careful Alice," said Louise, who beckoned for Tan Xin to follow her. "Don't stay here too late, okay?"

Alice nodded, but was clearly already distracted by carefully lining up the torn array to see if she could attempt using it again. So Louise left without saying anything else, her other companion trailing behind her before they exited the library.

"You should ask her out," came the unsolicited advice from a few feet behind her.

The cold air suddenly felt a lot colder as her cheeks warmed in response to even the relatively innocuous comment. "What? No, absolutely not." Then, she paused for a few moments, thinking it over. "Why, do you think she'd say yes?"

Tan Xin laughed, trotting up to her cousin's side. "Oh, probably. I can't claim to be the best at reading people, but she clearly likes you–at the very least, asking wouldn't ruin your friendship."

"Thank you for that opinion! Please never talk about this again," grumbled Louise, burrowing her face in her scarf.

Or, she would have, if she had been wearing it. "Wait, where'd it–"

"–You must have left it back in Alice's room," the other girl said, grinning. "You should go get it back."

That just earned Tan Xin another glare. "No way, I don't want to bother her again. Ugh, I'll just get it tomorrow."

Apparently done teasing her, they walked in silence for a few blocks–or, Louise walked in silence. Tan Xin liked to hum on their return trips, but this stopped about midway to 11th street. "Oh, there's a phone booth," she said, staring off at it. "Louise, you go on ahead, I've been meaning to catch up with Xinya since yesterday."

"Are you sure?" Louise asked. Sure, the girl could be obnoxious, but she felt bad leaving her alone in the cold night air–it might have been March, but winter apparently hadn't realized that. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, it's fine. I'll probably talk for a while, and I wouldn't want to freeze your ears off," she said, already walking away.

Watching to make sure that she really did go into the booth, and didn't just want to ditch her, Louise continued walking back alone. As she entered the hotel, she noticed that she was humming the same tune her cousin had been–it had gotten stuck in her head.

* * *

March 25th, 1944

About ten minutes after Louise left, Alice noticed that something had been left behind–her scarf, which was still draped over the adjacent chair. "Damn, and it's cold out too," she said to herself, before placing the array down with a sigh and grabbing the piece of fabric, heading towards the door.

As she exited, she buttoned up her coat, all the way up her neck to protect it from the wind, clinging onto the scarf as she began to walk towards the hotel where she knew they were staying. The street lamps had been turned on, barely illuminating the signs, but Alice knew this part of the city by heart. Most of her adolescent years had been spent walking these streets, and she wasn't about to get lost.

On her walk, there was only one disturbance–the phone booth, one of her landmarks on 11th street, was in use. This was an oddity because it was enough out of the way (down a short alleyway) that barely anyone used it–Alice couldn't help walking toward it to view the occupant.

Inside was Tan Xin, leaning against the counter as she chatted on the phone–she couldn't hear what she was saying through the walls of the booth, not at where she was still several feet away, but it was the happiest she had ever seen the girl. It softened Alice's heart a bit, to see the normally annoying girl so open–almost to the point where she felt as if she was intruding on something private, even though she had no way to know what was being said.

The other girl noticed Alice almost immediately, but surprisingly, her expression didn't change. She said something into the phone, waving at Alice and a toothy grin on her face, even though she was just loitering in front of the booth. After a few more minutes of talking (Alice felt bad leaving now, since it looked like she was waiting for her), she hung up the phone and stepped out. "Hey there, what're you doing here?"

"I was headed over to your hotel to give this back to Louise." She raised up the scarf, sort of awkwardly. "Uh, I've just never seen anyone actually use that one, since it's kind of shady. Were you talking to Xinya?" Tan Xin clearly admired her elder sister, the heir to the throne until Emperor Ling managed to put together a democracy, and talked about her quite a bit. It was hard to tell whether she even felt any jealousy towards her–it seemed to almost be pure hero worship, telling stories about her eloquence and elegance.

"Yeah, it was Xinya," she said, still smiling. "She's worried about me, so it's good for her to know I'm alright. It's incredible how much work she does–I mean, she almost single-handedly takes care of our brother, since–eh, maybe I shouldn't tell you."

"C'mon," Alice egged on, curious to see what made Tan Xin look softer than she ever had. "You've got plenty of blackmail on me."

"It's not important anyways," she said, brushing her off. "So, you're trying to catch up with Louise? I'm not sure if you'll be able to, she headed off a while ago. She's probably already back at the hotel. Here, give it to me–I'm headed back there anyways."

Alice held the scarf a little closer to herself with a frown, but couldn't quite place why she did. Logically, it made sense for Tan Xin to return it–after all, she had to finish up her work and still make it home at a reasonable time.

"Or, you could come with me and you can see her again," Tan Xin said, apparently amused by her struggle. "We can go over there together."

Part of Alice relaxed at this, which just made Tan Xin look a little more smug. They started walking together for the last two blocks, almost in silence until Tan Xin spoke up. "You should ask her out," she said, and Alice bursted into a coughing fit.

"I'm sorry, what?!" Tan Xin just laughed at her.

* * *

March 25th, 1944

Unbeknownst to anyone in Amestris, there was a man standing outside of one of the palace's many phone rooms. On his face was a mask, black and white, and his head was covered with a hood kept in place by long white cords. As he listened to the eldest daughter of the emperor finish her conversation with the youngest of the children, he began to walk away, his footsteps barely making a sound as he walked along the hallways.

It was late, late enough that he could easily avoid the patrolling guards and slip outside, eventually making his way down into the surrounding city. After leaving the palace grounds, he slipped into a corner to remove his uniform and mask, revealing a plain and entirely unremarkable face. The man could be described as neither tall, nor short, nor did he have any interesting facial features. The only true descriptor that would set him aside from anyone else was an athletic build, but even that was not too special–perhaps someone might identify him as fit, but not more so than any other fairly healthy man in his mid twenties. Had he not suffered a disease that injured his lungs and throat as a young child, he would have had an unremarkable voice as well.

The place he was headed to was a meeting point, generally for business deals, but also available for less savory enterprises. Unfortunately, the man was walking there for the latter.

Upon entering the establishment, he picked out a piece of paper and pointed at the number on it to the woman running the counter, who gave a tight lipped smile to him before handing him to key. "That's up two floors and to the right. You're with the Amestrians, right? They arrived here a while ago."

He shrugged, trying to communicate that it wasn't really his choice, and she did laugh at that. They paid her quite a bit to stay silent, since she's the only one who had to know about his most distinctive traits in this whole process. "Don't worry, I can't judge you."

As he headed up the staircase, he gave her one last wave with a slight smile of his own, then turned to focus at the task at hand. The door on the right, on the second floor–it was his normal one, since he had tested the sound proofing on it. It was good to hear that the people he was meeting with had reached the room without any issues, since they were probably the least invested in their project of the small group that knew of it.

The door was insulated, which made it harder to move, but he managed to unlock it. Inside, it was mostly bare–a table with four chair lay inside, but not much else. Much more interesting than the room were the people inside, anyways.

What the woman had labeled as Amestrians actually weren't, if what information he had gathered on them was correct. Rather, they were Drachman, but belonged to an ethnic group commonly associated with Amestris, with blonde hair and wide, blue eyes. These two had those same distinctive characteristics, the woman's hair pinned up in some sort of complex, but well fashioned, bun, while the man's was kept short but neat. Both of them wore suits, although the former wore a bright color than the latter, and their handkerchiefs differed in color. Unlike him, they stood out like a fireworks show in Xing, but in Amestris barely anyone would notice their presence.

They were talking quietly to each other when he entered, fast enough that his dubious knowledge of the Drachman language couldn't cover it. However, when they noticed his entrance, they both snapped to attention–he noted to himself that the woman seemed to react faster than her counterpart–and waited for him to take a seat.

The blonde haired man pulled out a notepad, briefly glancing at it before looking at the adjacent man. "You're Shun, right?" he asked, his Xingese nearly unaccented, but still different enough that he couldn't quite pass as completely fluent. Shun (for that was the unremarkable man's name) felt his eyes pass over him–not really looking at him, but sizing him up, maybe spotting the kunai he had hidden on his person.

Shun nodded, and took out his own piece of paper as proof of his identity, then (with some hesitation) opened his mouth to speak. "You two are the Vasilievs, then?" said Shun, his voice barely above a whisper, rasping unpleasantly through his lungs. Speaking, while not nearly as uncomfortable as it was when he was in recovery, was still a challenge, and he couldn't ever do it too much. Usually, this was an advantage–being quiet was necessary as a personal guard–but when he needed to do negotiations for his liege it became a hinderance.

However, if it bothered or surprised the pair it didn't show on their faces. Apparently satisfied, the man tucked away the notebook while the woman shifted closer (almost too close) to Shun. "So c'mon, what's the deal," she said, practically purring out the sentence. She didn't bother hiding her heritage nearly as much as her counterpart (they looked very similar–related, then, they didn't act married, but worked very well together and they had the same last name so they were probably siblings), with her thick accent marking her words. Shun's theory that the man was probably more of the infiltrator while the woman was more of the actual combatant of the two only grew more plausible. She looked it as well–even beneath her suit (which wasn't very thick–if they lived up north than he supposed Xingese spring wouldn't impress them) Shun could see bulk in those arms, and her quick reflexes only added to that.

"Katya," the man warned, and this was good, now Shun knew her name. "Don't be so eager. He'll tell us what we need to know."

Before the woman–Katya–could respond, Shun decided to insert himself back into the negotiations, miming writing something down and hoping that the man would give him a page from the notebook. After a second, he seemed to understand, and Shun let himself untense as the man gave him a page and a pencil. He also took out a lighter–smart, so they could burn it once he was finished.

"I noticed that your voice seemed rather quiet," said the man as Shun wrote on the paper. "I don't know if you know it, but I actually can understand Amestrian Sign Language. I'm a bit out of practice, but if it would help–"

Shun looked up from his note. " _I know it fairly well,_ " He signed at the other man (whose name he still didn't know, so that would be his next question). " _What is your name, if you can tell me? I'm at a disadvantage here._ "

It took the man a moment to respond, but eventually he got it. "Oh, I'm Dmitri. I am sorry to ask, but could you still finish your note? My sister doesn't know as much of it as I do, and it'd take longer to translate."

Shun nodded, politely ignoring the fact that Katya was grumbling something about always being surpassed by her brother (so he had been right, that was cathartic), and finished up his note before handing it over to Dmitri. The other man gave it a once over before showing it to Katya, who cackled at it. "Oh, now this is interesting! Smart choice, bringing a lighter."

"I thought it might be useful," he remarked, already reaching towards it to burn what was once an innocent sheet of paper. "What an interesting request. Why would you want the youngest princess dead? And so specific on how to do it...she's the troublemaker, right? Hmm…"

There was a total silence as they all watched Dmitri think things over (Shun was starting to get a bit annoyed at the man–he wanted a yes or no answer, then he wanted to leave and not think about this ever again. Katya just looked used to it). Then– "It's not that you just want her dead, is it? She's not a big enough issue to really be a bother to the royals, so it's not official, but she's not the heir so why–oh. Oh, I think I get it now. But why–" He read that note again, as if that would reveal more information. "–why start so much conflict between Amestris and Xing? Who could benefit from that? Someone wanting to discredit the emperor and take the throne for themselves? I thought he was rather well liked. And just one assassination won't do it–there has to be something else, isn't there?" Then, another epiphany came to the man. "The prince isn't really sick is he? Whoever you're working for wants the two younger siblings out of the way, at least, but–"

"Dmitri, shut up," said Katya, and Shun internally thanked her. If her brother had continued on for too much longer, his kunai would have been embedded in his throat, and it was harder to sneak around covered in blood. "So he, or whoever he's working for, wants to start a war. Big deal, it's not our issue."

"Oh, I certainly don't think there's an issue," he said, and maybe Shun had been wrong in his initial assessment of Katya as the more chaotic of the two while Dmitri was the polite and stable one, because the grin that split his face in two, practically tearing it apart, was far from sane or stable. "After all, won't it be beautiful to see Amestris suffer? I'd rather like to see it burn, wouldn't you?" Then, he turned back to Shun, seemingly back to the normal smile he had held before. "We'll take the job. Katya, how does ninety thousand cenz sound, to start off?"

"That's low," she said, and Shun agreed with her. "But you're the accountant, I just kill people."

"And we'd like a third of it up front," Dmitri said, flipping to another page. "Plus, you'll be paying for all our expenses–that means the train ride there, room and board for at least a few nights, and any medical care we may need as a result of this will be covered by you. Does that sound alright?"

Ninety thousand cenz was very low for something of this scale, Shun thought, thinking it over, and even if they were seriously injured it would still be a good deal. Cautiously, he held out his hand to shake on it, and Dmitri took it. Then, he shook hands with Katya, noticing the tattoos on the back of her hand. Right, alchemists were weird. "That works for me," he said, trying not to cough as he spoke.

He pulled out what he had been given for up front payments– it was a generous sum, since they hadn't expected such a good deal–and counted out the Xingese equivalent of the thirty thousand they wanted immediately. It was a large amount to just walk around with, but Shun supposed they'd deposit it quickly. Or not, it wasn't any of his business.

"Excellent," Katya said, admiring the money "But there's just one question I have–why does it say to kidnap the Fuhrer's daughter while this is carried out? Why not just get rid of her, too? It would be easy for us."

" _If you kill the Fuhrer's daughter,_ " he signed, Dmitri picking up on it and translating for him. " _The Fuhrer himself might get involved too early. He's too powerful of a player to introduce to the field this early on. But you still have to get her out of the way–she's been hanging around the youngest daughter, and if she gets caught in the crossfire, it would confuse the whole plan._ "

"I've heard rumors of his power," inserted Dmitri, once he finish relaying the conversation to Katya. "I'm sure you have too. Even we couldn't handle that. Don't worry–I can take care of that part, you worry about the other one. Besides, we can use that to our advantage."

"If you say so," murmured Katya, who looked disappointed at the prospect of not getting to kill someone. "Is that all, then?" she said, grabbing her brother's lighter before burning the message (and pulling out a cigarette. Hopefully, the next occupants didn't mind the room smelling like smoke.)

Once again, Shun nodded, then signed one last thing. " _We should depart separately,_ " he began, thinking about how to plan this so no one could recognize him or pin this on him. " _It'd be best if we weren't seen together._ "

"Of course," Dmitri said. "You can leave first, Katya and I will stay here for a bit. Besides, we should discuss our...strategy."

After making sure that he had gathered all of his things, the guard exited the room, making his way back down the stairs and, eventually, back to the palace grounds. Just like before, he paused to slip into a hidden area to put back on his uniform, first making sure that no one was watching. That was the riskiest part–after that, it was mostly easy going, since very few people had ever seen his face.

Once on the grounds, he looked like any other patrolling guard, nothing like a man who was assisting in plotting the assassination of one of the royal children. At last, he found himself back at his post–in front of a door, which slowly creaked open, revealing a familiar face.

"Oh, Shun," said Xinya, who looked like she had just woken up. "I had been looking for you. Is everything alright?"

" _Yes, my lady,_ " he signed. " _Everything is fine. Don't worry._ "

For a moment, she stared at him, like she was trying to figure out if he was lying or not, like she could look right through his mask and look into his mind. "Alright," she said at last. "Thank you, for being so loyal. I would imagine it's not an easy position."

" _It's my pleasure to serve you,_ " he responded, and found himself meaning every word of it.

That night, two tickets were bought for a train to Amestris, and two assassins stood in the same spot were just ten days ago their target had stood.


	6. Chapter 6

Oh boy, I've been thinking about the opening scene in this chapter since I started the fic. If you want to know my opinion, I think Roy and Riza should be tried and probably executed for war crimes–that said, Fullmetal Alchemist has really strong themes of anti self-sacrifice, and I wanted to respect that. Plus, they needed to be alive anyways. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

* * *

 _They walked down the courtroom steps, just a few feet apart, neither of them knowing quite what to say–their own popularity had ruined their goals, it seemed. No court in the country would convict them, not with their new jury system working against them._

" _We'll try an Ishvalan one next," Mustang said abruptly. "They'll...they'll have to find us guilty." He laughed, but it was a wretched sound, the kind that comes when you choke back sobs. "To think, that even now we can't find absolution."_

" _But how would that help us," said a familiar voice, though it was one they hadn't heard in many years. The pair, too surprised to continue looking downtrodden, looked up to see a man with a scar on his face, one that crossed over his eyes, at the bottom of the steps. He barely looked any different than he had eleven years ago, during the Promised Day, but the fury that had so often been seen on his face was absent. Instead, there was quiet determination in his eyes. Peacetime, it seemed, had aged him well._

 _The man walked further towards the pair. "You will never be able to know if those in God's hands forgive you–and no one else besides them ever could. Seeking your 'absolution' through death is a selfish dream. Try to fix the mistakes you've made in your life before God claims you–after that, He shall judge you for Himself. No sooner." Apparently, a look of doubt flashed through one of their eyes, so he continued. "Call me a hypocrite for this if you must, but at least I've learned something in these years," he said, looking both of them in the eye, first Riza, then Roy. "It seems you still haven't."_

 _Turning away from them, he walked them down the stairs. "You should come to Ishval," he suggested. "But not to see our courts. Rather, come see for yourself what we need. You can't help us if you're dead."_

 _They never went on trial again, but they would spend the rest of their lives trying to help their remaining victims._

* * *

March 25th, 1944

To say that Ishval was thriving would be edging on the dangerous side of optimism, but it certainly wasn't the ruin it had been just after the civil war. Progress was slow, but steady, and as the years had passed more and more volunteers had come to help, partially out of genuine concern for the Ishvalans' plight, and partially for their curiosity. The military had a large part in restoration too, but they were rarely as welcome as civilians were, especially in the early years (for, perhaps, good reason). Still, no fights had ever broken out, but it kept everyone on their toes. However, as the years (and decades) passed, some of the trepidation and hostility faded away, and soon the blue uniform of Amestris just meant that people would smile a little more cautiously at you, not glare at you outright.

There were some exceptions to this, though. Lawrence happened to be one of them–with his red eyes and pale hair he received several confused looks as he walked down one of the unpaved roads pushing a cart full of supplies, mostly for laying asphalt. While Ishvalans were no longer barred from joining the military (that was something that had actually been changed in Grumman's time), they still were a rare sight, and while many of them were stationed in Ishval they still weren't exactly common there either.

Work in the desert was, in short, hot, unpleasant, and often involved horrifying insects. It was the best station Lawrence had ever received, he cheerfully thought to himself as his arms screamed at him for pushing way too much and he stopped to flick a fly away from his ear. Absolutely stunning, wouldn't give it up for the world.

As he reached the end of the dirt, where it started to turn to cobble, which then turned to a small patch of asphalt that had already been put in place, he placed the cart over to the side of the road, joining some civilian volunteers who were trying to pry up some of the old (which, in this case, just meant bad) paving that had been done just a few years after the civil war. It was outdated now, especially on a main road like this one. A few of them looked up at him and waved, and he waved back, smiling even with dust smudged on his face.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stay to help. It was about time for his phone call to the Lieutenant Colonel to begin, and if he wasn't careful he would miss her one free part of her schedule today. For all of her seemingly carefree attitude, she was nearly constantly busy–especially since it looked like a promotion was in the future for her, and she needed to constantly prove herself worthy of the rank of Colonel. Actually, she would probably be promoted right around the time he was transferred. Briefly, he wondered what his new commanding officer would be like, but pushed the thought out of his head. He didn't need to worry about that quite yet.

After a short walk, he reached one of the buildings in this sector that the phone lines attached to and walked in–it was a military building, after all, although not the main one. That was up the road a ways, and was marked by the lack of people in a nearly twenty foot radius around it.

With another salute to another officer that was just leaving the room, he slipped in and pulled out the small slip of paper with the office's phone number written on it. The nice thing about using a military phone, he thought as he dialed the numbers in, was that he didn't need to try and remember the access code to go from a civilian to military line.

" _You've reached Lieutenant Colonel Hughes in Central,_ " said the voice on the other end of the line, although it was likely she already knew who it was. There weren't many people in Ishval who had reason to call her, after all.

"Hello sir, it's Lieutenant Armstrong, reporting in. I've been sent around the western sector of Ishval for the last week," (actually six days) "so I haven't gotten a chance to go south yet, but I think I'll be able to go down there now–after that, I'll be heading back up to Central, sir. I should arrive sometime tomorrow."

" _Hey, that's great! Thanks for doing that by the way, and don't forget to fill out the form for reimbursement for travel costs, okay? You can pick one up in my office when you come back to Central. So, how are things going down there? You said you were working on updating some of the old street lamps down there, right, making them electric…"_

They talked for nearly half an hour, Lawrence providing her with his informal report, even managing to avoid all of the family stories save for one extended tale revolving around her husband bringing their dog to his class. He didn't even mind that much–it was almost relaxing to fall back into the routine of him trying to get back on task while she continued to blabber about one tooth-rottingly sweet thing or another.

Eventually, they managed to reach an end to their conversation (if it could be called that. It was more like they were talking about completely different things, vaguely at the other), leaving Lawrence to walk up the road to the military complex where he was staying, mainly to gather up his bags, but also to tell his father about his plans. Between all the moving around, he hadn't gotten to see him much, and he hoped to at least see him one last time before he was pushed back to Central for who knows how long. Unfortunately, as he entered the building, he couldn't seem to find him anywhere.

"Excuse me," he asked a young woman, a sergeant, who happened to be passing by. "Is Colonel Miles still here?"

She momentarily looked startled, but straightened herself out quickly. "No sir, he just left a few minutes ago to go talk to the head of one of the new churches. Did you have a meeting with him?"

It seemed that he hadn't visited frequently enough (or they didn't look similar enough without him wearing sunglasses) for anyone to realize that when he asked for "Colonel Miles" he was really asking for his dad, but that was sometimes the way it went when your parents both outranked you. "No, it's fine. Sorry to waste your time, Sergeant."

There was a twinge of disappointment in his chest at that. Sure, there were always letters and phone calls, but it wasn't the same, and he knew it. Still, there would always be other visits, he told himself. This wasn't too important.

* * *

March 25th, 1944

To be perfectly honest, Marcoh was surprised (very surprised, actually, downright stunned) that he had lived this long, especially since he didn't particularly want to in the first place. In the end, it hadn't really been his choice to make–just like a certain other pair of war criminals, he had gotten told that frankly, his opinion on the worth of his life didn't actually matter anymore, and he would be using however much he had left to assist the people that he had helped destroy.

However, he was an elderly man. He couldn't do much of the physical side of reconstruction anymore, but he was still a practicing doctor and alchemist. In his spare time, he watered flowers. It, in short, was a sickeningly peaceful existence, far from what he felt he deserved. Sometimes, it was even an enjoyable one–Mei, the little girl that he had traveled with so long ago, had remembered him and occasionally came to visit him with her husband, and more recently, her child. Even the man that had spared his life grudgingly stopped by every once in a while, and while they could never be friends it put part of his soul to rest when he saw the once constantly frowning man smile as he talked about his neighbors, that Colonel he worked with, his pet cat (which worked surprisingly well), the children that had somehow decided he was their uncle (and if Marcoh saw him almost tear up at that, he didn't say anything).

And he did help people, probably more than he ever had in his life. There was, unfortunately, never a shortage of patients. But the one he was currently thinking of was probably the most interesting–and possibly, the most important–of them all. A certain man had long ago told Marcoh about his nightmares, dreams of shadows and eyes and oh-so-many teeth.

Memories, he had said to himself, they were memories.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he went back to get some more water for the watering can, to give some life to the strange desert flowers that a grateful young lady had gifted to him after he had operated on her brother's leg. They brightened up his small porch, that was for sure, and despite not having much of a green thumb, they had seemed to thrive under his care.

As he watered them, footsteps caught his attention. His hearing wasn't as sharp as it used to be, but he still turned on a reflex to see who was approaching him.

A few feet away from him was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with light blonde hair–almost white, which made sense considering the rest of his features. He was Ishvalan, but wearing a military uniform–the sight made him smile, at least a bit. He couldn't endorse the military, not after he had seen how easily it could be corrupted, but to see an Ishvalan serving without covering up their eyes, in a military they felt comfortable being a part of–that was certainly a change Marcoh could support.

"Ah, hello sir," said the man. "Are you Doctor Marcoh?" Not quite waiting for an answer (Marcoh supposed that his face was fairly distinctive), he pulled out a letter from his uniform. "I was told to deliver this to you."

"Oh, thank you," he responded, taking the letter and reading the name on the front. _Elicia Hughes,_ it read, _12808 Grand Street, Central…_

It seemed that he was wrong to put that patient out of his mind so quickly, he thought as he gave an anxious smile to the departing young man, and opened up the letter. He stepped back inside, unfolding it and noting the lack of any official stamp–unsurprisingly, she wouldn't want to put this through the Amestrian postal system, which still had a habit of screening letters from high ranking individuals, something the current Fuhrer hadn't managed to completely put a stop to.

 _Dear Dr. Marcoh,_ it began.

 _My husband's nightmares have been growing more severe by the day. He often wakes in the middle of the night, unsettled and disturbed, and it's beginning to interfere with his job…_

* * *

March 26th, 1944

It was just past midnight that the two Drachmans boarded their train headed for Amestris, but it hardly a bother to them. They had long ignored their circadian rhythms, as sleep schedules were for people with more stable jobs, so they were wide awake, probably being the most alert people in the whole station.

Since travel costs were covered by their employer (perhaps employers were more likely. There seemed to be an organization at work here, but it still wasn't really their business), they had bought themselves a small private car–not just because of the luxury of it, but because they could talk about their plans inside it.

Once they entered, Dmitri began to check for listening devices, just in case. So many plots had been brought down by just the addition of a small, inconspicuous microphone to a room, and neither of them had any wish to go out in such an undramatic fashion. After he was satisfied with his search, he sat back down, across from his sister, who was studying the two tattoos on the back of her hand (either to make sure that the lines were still sharp and clear, or for her own enjoyment. Dmitri didn't quite know which).

"Well, that was exhausting," he said, and she looked back up at him. "Certainly a larger commission than I expected, but not an unwelcome one. Although," he frowned, more to himself than to Katya. "Is the youngest princess even eighteen? I can't help but wonder, since the prince is only nineteen, correct?" Dmitri fell back into a thinking pose that made Katya groan in displeasure. "And besides, there's still something I'm curious about. Why would this be done? Who are our actual employers? Will we eventually be asked to dispatch all of them? What about–"

"Why does it matter?" She asked in response, leaning forward to rest her head on her hand. "If she's not an adult, eventually she will be, and then you'd be fine with killing her. And it's none of our business who's hiring us, as long as we're paid. You asked for criminally little, by the way."

"It's the principle of the matter," he argued back, but shrugged. "But, you're not wrong. Even if she is a child, some sacrifices have to be made for vengeance."

"And people call me the messed up twin," she muttered. "You're obsessed with revenge for something we barely remember."

That earned her a glare (which earned him an eye roll). "Don't be so flippant about it," he said, his glasses catching onto the moonlight pouring through the open window. "Again, it's the–"

"Principle of the matter, I know Dmitri. Why are you like this? Join me in my sadism, at least predictable." As he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. "And I'm not in the mood to talk philosophy. Come on, let's talk business."

Finally, he quieted down, and she pulled out her own notebook from her bag. "Alright, so the girl's been hanging around the Fuhrer's daughter, and we need to remove her from the picture somehow, right? So, here's what I'm thinking–is there a place where they often meet? I didn't get a good look at that note before you got it back, so–"

"–Apparently, they've been doing research together. So maybe the library? Central's got a decent library, yes?" He mused, and Katya just stared at him.

"Dmitri, Central has one of the best libraries in the world," she began. "If there was any place to do research, it would be there. So, if we can figure out the route she uses to get to the library, and where they work…"

"...Then we're all set," he finished, and they grinned at each other, white-toothed smiles identical in the low light of the train car.

* * *

March 26th, 1944

For the past week, Jamie had been having the time of his life. Central was a hotspot of innovation, and although it couldn't hold a candle to Rush Valley in terms of automail, the sheer aura of modernity that the city had overwhelmed him every time he set foot outside of his hotel. Even within the hotel, actually–the elevators were cleaner and more polished than he could imagine, and he didn't think that Resembool even had one, let alone one as new as these.

For most of the time, he had stayed fairly close to his mother, traveling around the city to visit museums and take tours, but for the last three days he had mostly been on his own. This meant that he spent a lot of time staring at cars, fascinated by all the different types–the automobile market secretly fascinated him, since they were transported from as far as western Creta or Aerugo–and motorcycles! Now those, those were very cool. From the looks of them, they could even handle Resembool's narrow roads, and even if the thought of riding one made his knees shake a bit he was still tempted to find out how much they cost (the answer: far too much for him).

He also spent time doing something else: looking at apartments. Tan Xin's comments had sunk deeper than he thought, leaving him to wonder why he hadn't tried to move out until now. After he had finished school, he had assumed that eventually he would join an apprenticeship, but he had taken a tour of one of the local colleges and had been impressed by their engineering program. Though he was still too nervous to talk about it with his parents, the idea of living in the city seemed more and more appealing to the young man, especially when the receptionist at the university told him that there was a substantial scholarship for children of veterans–especially veterans of the coup, which his father counted as. There were no shortage of jobs in Central, even in the civilian sector, so he should be able to find one easily enough.

Currently, he was on another college tour, as there were three major universities in Central. Jamie suspected that he was probably the oldest one there, save for the parents, but he didn't particularly mind. It was enjoyable, and once again he found himself impressed by the facilities. While he had visited his father's part time work place a few times, it was far enough away that he didn't really go there unless he had some special reason to, and that university certainly wasn't as big as these.

Upon returning to the central lobby after the tour, he was surprised to hear a familiar voice in the background–though who it was, he couldn't quite tell. When he turned around, he saw a woman with light brown hair and a military uniform, holding a dog's leash (the dog itself was adorable. He had to resist the urge to go over and pet it). After listening for a few more minutes (the woman, it seemed had a lot to say to the poor receptionist), he realized where he recognized the voice from–it was Lawrence's commanding officer, and she certainly sounded a lot like she had over the phone–apparently, she wasn't one of the people who changed the tone of their voice.

Also, no, it wasn't creepy at all that he listened in closely enough to hear the other person's voice. She just had a very distinctive pattern of speaking, that's all.

Part of Jamie wanted to approach her, if only to be friendly (also, to ask if he could pet her dog. He had other motivations than just friendliness), but on the other hand, was that socially acceptable? Walking up to someone who he didn't know and telling them that he recognized their voice from a phone call? Probably not. Was he walking towards her to introduce himself anyways? Yes, he was.

"Ah, pardon me," he said, getting her attention. "Could I pet your dog?" A perfectly reasonable introduction.

"Huh? Oh, sure! He's friendly, just a little young, so he might get over excited," she responded, smiling at him. (Were...were dogs allowed inside here? Oh well, it wasn't important.)

As he bent down, she apparently decided to turn her attention from the one sided conversation with the woman behind the desk to talking to Jamie. "So, are you here on a college visit? My husband teaches a class here–a literature course–and he says it's a great environment. What major are you considering?"

"Uh, I was looking at engineering," he said, and thank goodness this worked. Not that he was counting on his friend's boss for updates about his life, that would be weird.

They talked for probably a solid twenty minutes, with Jamie eventually introducing himself. At that, her eyes widened, and then she chuckled to herself. "Your name is Jamie, you like engineering, and you live in Resembool? Do you happen to know Lieutenant Armstrong?"

Lieutenant Armstrong? Oh right, that was Lawrence. "Yeah, he stayed with us for a couple of days while the tracks were down. Are you his commanding officer?" he asked, already knowing the answer but too awkward to tell her that.

"Sure am! Lieutenant Colonel Elicia Hughes, pleasure to meet you." She offered him her hand, and he shook it. "Also, he won't shut up about you. To think, I didn't know my best subordinate would find true love on a military trip, how romantic!"

"I'm sorry, what?!" Jamie sputtered, ready to deny anything and everything. "No, we're just friends, that's it–"

Now laughing again, she patted him on the head. "Oh, you two can't fool me, I remember when I met my husband. Oh, that reminds me–" And out came the photos he had been warned about. With his embarrassment, he had nearly forgotten about Lawrence's warnings of his picture-obsessed commander. Maybe she had just mentioned that to throw him off his guard so he couldn't leave?

No matter what her plan had been, it didn't look like he would be leaving for quite a while.

* * *

March 26, 1944

After tormenting the poor kid for nearly an hour, he had stood up and made an excuse for why he had to leave–not that Elicia had been fooled, she knew what it was, but hardly minded. It had been fun to surprise him like that.

As she headed back home (really, she had only come to take Victor on a walk, and the campus happened to be nearby), she couldn't help but wonder about her subordinate, Lawrence. She did feel as if he and Jamie would be a good match for each other, although she couldn't tell that to him–instead, she had to hope that Jamie would act on it. There were some lines that she wouldn't cross in their relationship, since he still worked for her and didn't have the luxury of fleeing like Jamie did.

She lived outside of military housing, mostly so her husband could be in the same district as his family home in the northern part of the city. Where they currently lived was nowhere as extravagant as that, however–both of them were content with their townhouse. Maybe if they were able to have kids, they would have tried to have a bigger home, but in their current situation that wouldn't really be a possibility for them.

Elicia still remembered that night two years ago, when she had been brought to the Fuhrer's office and told them truth about her then-fiance. In a moment, the future she had imagined for them–kids, retiring quietly together and maybe going to live in the countryside–had been shattered. The first part just physically couldn't happen–adoption, of course, was always an option, but Elicia had never claimed to be a good person. She was selfish, she wanted them to look like her and her husband, and he wasn't even allowed the leave the city, lest he disappear from the military's watchful eye.

They had called him, the person he had been in his previous life, a monster. Elicia had thought that she was going to punch the Fuhrer–old family friend and practically her uncle or not–in the face, which would have been an incredibly bad idea for a multitude of reasons. At the very least, she probably would have been discharged (which her mother would probably be secretly happy about).

As she reached her home, she took Victor off leash so he could dart inside, charging towards his favorite of the two. She loved that dog, but couldn't blame him for having his favorites.

"Hello, are you there?" She shouted out into the relative darkness of the house.

"I'm in the living room," came a quiet voice from her left, and she walked over to her husband. He was laying down on the sofa, a cold compress on his head.

"Not feeling so well again?" She murmered, feeling his forehead for a fever (which she knew she'd never find). "Sweetheart, this is the fifth night this month."

"I know," he whined back at her. "It's just a headache–probably just from overexhaustion. You know I haven't been sleeping well…"

"I know," she soothed, and fell down to her knees to embrace her husband. "Tell me if there's anything I can do, Selim."

(And if she just so happened to see the shadows in the room shake around her as she turned her eyes away from them, well, that was just a normal part of life in the Bradley-Hughes household.)


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter is devoted to anyone who thinks it's stupid these very important children are wandering around unguarded. Warnings are at the end.

* * *

 _"There's no way I'm going to travel around with a guard, dad!" The little girl shouted, unreasonably angry at her father, who was quickly losing patience with his daughter. "If someone wants to hurt me that badly, they'll just kill them too!"_

" _Alice, you're getting a guard, and that's final," he demanded, while Riza watched the exchange._

" _No way, that's stupid! You're stupid, this is stupid!" It was the closest thing to a curse word the five year old knew, and she was going to shout it at every opportunity she had._

" _Alice Maes Mustang, go to your room," said his wife from the side, raising her voice just slightly. "You do not talk to your parents with such a tone."_

" _Fine!" Alice shouted, storming off and dramatically stomping upstairs to her bedroom, and Roy collapsed on the couch next to Riza._

" _What are we going to do with her?" He asked her, and she sighed and leaned against him._

" _We're going to get her a guard, hopefully someone she likes. She'll get used to it eventually," she responded with certainty, and for a while the matter was settled._

 _After Alice tied her sheets together in a classic movie-style escape and ran off to hide in Headquarter's courtyard for several hours, the two gave up trying to keep the child under constant surveillance. After all, in peacetime, it was unlikely that anything or anyone would harm the little girl._

* * *

March 27th, 1944

Eight days of research with Tan Xin and Louise had resulted in more progress than several months of research alone, thought Alice to herself as she walked out of Central HQ and past the memorial. It was incredible how much they had figured out–and incredible how far they were from the actual truth. That last part was especially relevant, considering that Louise had to leave tomorrow. Still, Tan Xin was planning to stay in Central for a while, and Alice started to consider advising her to get someplace more permanent than a hotel–maybe not an apartment, but something that wouldn't put such a strain on the other girl's wallet. While she liked to pretend it was bottomless, Alice had noticed that she had become more frugal as the hotel price lightened it little by little. And that was without her staying for her own research–frankly, she was surprised that she hadn't been ditched in favor of Tan Xin continuing her own exploration into her father's past, and she felt like she probably owed the Xingese princess something for that.

As the wind swept through the courtyard from the south, Alice tugged her coat closer to her body to prevent any chills. It had been a tempermental spring to be sure–maybe it was time to treat herself to something.

With a quick check of her wallet, she found that she had more than enough for a taxi. Good, the library was just far enough away that making the walk in this weather would be unpleasant. Once on the main street, she scanned the area for one of the distinctive yellow cars. Frowning when she didn't see one, she continued down the street a ways. Eventually, she found one that looked empty, and waved it down, smiling as she slipped into the back seat.

"Hey, thanks! Can you take me to the library?" She asked, trying to get a look at the driver. While she couldn't see much, it looked like he was blonde, and when he tilted his head towards her she caught a glimpse of silver glasses.

"Of course," he said, "It's definitely cold out, isn't it? I wouldn't want to walk that far."

For a few minutes, they made small talk about the weather, which surprised Alice, at least a bit–taxi drivers in Central generally didn't want to talk to you. Then, she noticed something. "Uh, I think we just passed the library."

"You know," he said, "You're much more observant than most people give you credit for. Most of the populace of Central seems to thinks that, frankly, you're a bit of a ditz."

Oh, this was a kidnapping, Alice quickly realized. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), this wasn't exactly a new situation for her–and this was a lot less intense than many of the other ones she had experienced. "Okay, here's the thing. If you don't let me out, I'm just going to bust up your car, and you'll probably get arrested. It's like, super not worth it," she said, already straightening out her gloves. Just a tap of her fingers, and she'd be out–

–And before she could, metal shot out from the doors and wrapped around her wrists. The windows, she noticed had darkened (interesting technique, she would later think). "Shit!" She yelled, kicked her legs into the air, lashing out toward the man. "What the–no, screw you, let me go!" That never worked, but Alice reacted on instinct.

"You," he said over the sounds over her nearly breaking her wrist in an attempt to escape. "Okay, stop that, aren't the only alchemist in this car–stop," he commanded sternly as more metal restrained her legs. She could lean forward just enough to see that he was using his hand (which was pressed against the door) to somehow transmute the material in the car, but she didn't catch a glimpse of the array he was using. As he tightened the restraints around her limbs (he was good–not tight enough she could claim she was losing circulation to a dangerous extent, but not loose enough to squirm around), she tried to maneuver her coat to her hand–there was an array stitched into the underside of the coat, if she could just–

"This is getting ridiculous," the man said from the backseat. "I apologize for this, because it's going to hurt."

Just as she had grabbed onto the edge of the coat, another bolt of metal shot out–this one straight at her head. Alice barely had time to react before it made contact, knocking her unconscious nearly instantly.

A few hours later, when she woke up blindfolded with her arms tied behind her back and her legs tied together, she internally groaned.

Her father was never going to let her out of his sights again.

* * *

March 27th, 1944

"It's hard to believe that you'll be leaving tomorrow," Tan Xin remarked as they began to walk towards the library. "These last few days have just been so...all encompassing, I suppose."

"Yeah," Louise responded, not really paying attention to her–instead, she was looking up at the skyline, trying to absorb anything she had missed. Central had been such an experience, such a whirlwind of emotions even if some of the days had dragged on, that Louise wasn't sure how she was going to be able to go back to a quieter life in Resembool. Even going to Xing hadn't been like this, since she hadn't gotten to spend much time in the capital itself, being mainly restricted to the palace grounds–now, she has a feeling that had she seen the city, her father would have had to physically drag her out of the country back home.

Their walk to the library was a peaceful one, if unpleasantly cold–poor Alice, she thought, who had to walk farther than them to get to the library.

Speaking of Alice, Louise hadn't completely forgotten Tan Xin's commentary from last night, and she was starting to wish she had mentioned it earlier. After all, she had told herself, wanting to go on a date with someone can just be a sign of infatuation–it didn't mean you had to end up in a relationship, and it might have been a nice experience. Probably a bit too late for that now, she thought. It would feel cruel to ask her out on her last day in Central, not when they still need to do more research.

"Have you considered where you're going to stay after we leave? I mean, are you just going to stay at the hotel?" Louise asked, snapping back to attention. Tan Xin hardly seemed to mind–if anything, she was amused by her cousin's spaciness.

"Hmmm, I don't know–if it wasn't such...a city, I guess, I'd look for a hostel, but I'm not sure if there'd be any in Central," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Let's see...well, if I had decided to ride across the desert on a bike, I could look a bit outside the city, but considering the fact that I'd probably be dead I suppose I should be glad I never considered that a legitimate option."

"They aren't that expensive, though," Louise said. "If you're planning on staying longer than another week or so, it might be a worthwhile investment–plus, you can probably sell it to someone else after you've finished your stay."

"Maybe," responded Tan Xin, but she still didn't sound too convinced. "Oh, we're here." They had gotten so used to the walk that they barely noticed it anymore.

The librarian smiled at them as they entered, used to their presence and thankful that they were more quiet than other non-locals. Then, they went down the now-familiar basement stairs into the alchemy level, and then across to the hallway and to Alice's private room. However, knocking at the door, they were surprised to find that she didn't open it up for them. On a whim, Tan Xin tried the door, which clicked open. "She should really remember to lock this," she said, amused by the absent girl's lack of care for something so important.

Upon entering and closing the door behind them, Louise wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant smell in the room. She didn't worry about it too much though–it was in a basement and stagnant air, or something smelling odd, wasn't that strange, even if it made her cough a little bit.

After about an hour, Tan Xin looked up from where she had been working on a new array. "Alice still isn't here, huh? That's a bit odd."

"It is," said Louise, who had just stood up to stretch. "If she's not here in another hour, we should probably go look for her–honestly though, we've been working fairly hard. I wouldn't be surprised if she just slept in."

During this hour, both of them developed a cough. "It's probably the smell," Tan Xin said. "Bad part about working in the basement–no way to air out the room."

"I do feel a little nauseous," Louise admitted, and stood up again. "Some fresh air will help–plus, we should go see if Alice is still coming." With a stretch (and another cough) she went to open the door.

It was locked, and Louise froze. This door didn't lock from the outside. Maybe it was jammed?

"Tan Xin, something's up with the door," she said, kicking at it (not too hard, just enough to hopefully get it unblocked) and trying the handle again–no luck. It was still firmly closed.

"Try turning the doorknob the other way," the other girl suggested, standing up to try it herself, and then frowning when it didn't respond. "That's…really strange." Then she paused. "Ugh, my eyes. Spring allergies." She had a brief coughing fit, and–did that sound like a wet cough? That was odd, unless Tan Xin had an illness recently.

"Are you feeling alright?" Louise asked, turning her attention away from the door, and Tan Xin nodded.

"Yeah, just a bit dizzy I guess. My eyes don't want to focus on this, heh. I'm probably just tired–hey, you could always use alchemy to get the door open." She said, and Louise brightened a bit at this.

"Yeah, I can! Hey, can you hand me the chalk on the table?"

The door was wood, but the lock and knob were metal–as she sketched her array onto the floor (it was concrete, so the chalk stuck well) she review the elements in a metal like that. Then, she placed her hand to it, and willed for the lock to unjam.

For a moment, she felt to block budge, but before she could celebrate her partial victory (and her embarrassment in not even being able to remove that much), she left it change again. That's odd, she thought. What could cause that?

Her blood froze as she realized what the only explanation was. As she did, Tan Xin's cough picked up again.

"Crap," she muttered, and immediately started dragging the nearest bookshelf away from the wall, cursing again when it didn't reveal anything.

"What's wrong?" Tan Xin asked, jumping down from the table only to sway on her feet. "Louise?"

"The door's not jammed," said Louise with certainty. "Someone's trapped us in here. And whoever's done this is using alchemy to poison us."

* * *

March 27th, 1944

Lieutenant Colonel Breda was having a very stressful day so far–one, the Fuhrer was just about on a warpath, because they had received an anonymous tip just a few minutes ago that his daughter had been kidnapped, and two, he had somehow ended up in charge of recovering the kid. So far, what they had to go off of was that she was somewhere in the east side of the city, and he had his entire squad out searching for her. This wasn't how he wanted to spend his day, especially since his entire squad also meant that he was out, driving around searching for a needle in a haystack. Or, in this case, a single person in a city with a population of nearly one million.

Progress was going slowly, but steadily, but it didn't exactly help the Lieutenant Colonel's heart. Still, there was some good news–Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's team had joined them, including a young man who was apparently the son of the legendary Olivier Armstrong herself, although his grin had turn a little awkward when he had mentioned that. "Yeah, sure am, sir." He had said, and Hughes had just laughed when he had driven away in his search car.

"He's a little touchy about the parents thing," she had said. "But don't worry, he's a good kid. Probably the best of my subordinates. I wouldn't be surprised if he got to the root of the whole thing!"

And so the search continued, with Brigadier General Hawkeye eventually joining in herself, silent and furious as she paced the street by foot. At the very least, the kidnappers should have the fear of God put into them by now.

They still didn't know their purpose though, nor who their anonymous tip had been given by. And that–that made Breda nervous.

* * *

(About an hour later, a young man ran into his friend coming back from his last college tour, confused about why there were military folks everywhere. Upon being told why, his eyes had widened, and told the young man everything.

And, as his superior had expected of him, he put everything together.)

* * *

After about three hours of searching, Hughes rejoined with Breda. "Have your guys had any luck yet?" She asked, any previous bravado gone. The normally cheerful woman had quieted down into an intense figure, more on edge than Breda had ever seen her (and he couldn't help but draw a parallel to another Hughes he had once known.)

"Nothing," he said to her. "We have nothing."

It was then that her subordinate from before charged in, breathing heavy as he leaned onto his knees, before looking his commanding officer dead in the eyes. "We have a problem. Alice isn't the target here, and I need permission to go save the real ones before they die."

"What?" Hughes asked, and Breda definitely agreed with her. "Who's the real target?"

"A princess from Xing and the Fullmetal Alchemist's daughter–I think that Alice was kidnapped to keep attention away from that, and I don't know whether they're wanted dead or kidnapped too, but–"

"Alright, Lieutenant, you better be right about this," she said, making a shooing motion with her hands. "Once you've found out what's happened come straight back."

"Thank you sir," he said, and sprinted off, leaving two confused Lieutenant Colonels in his wake.

"What the hell was he talking about?" Breda asked, raising his eyebrow.

"No clue," said the woman, "But he's never been wrong before. Now, we've got another young lady to track down."

* * *

March 27th, 1944

The nausea had only gotten worse, and Tan Xin was of little help, considering that she seemed to have gotten the worst of the chemical. As Louise continued to tear apart the room in search for the one unfamiliar array–it had to be somewhere, but she couldn't hurt any of Alice's research.

If it was outside the room, Louise realized, they were screwed.

"Tan Xin," she rasped, for her own lungs had begun to fill with liquid (her chest ached, she noticed, and the world was spinning). "Tan Xin, are you alright?"

There was no response, and she looked over only to see the other girl slumped over on the table. Panicked, she rushed over, and only partially relaxed when she felt her pace and saw her chest still rise and fall–a combination of stress and the effects of the chemical had likely caused her to faint. Louise turned her over onto her side, not knowing what else to do. Would that just cause her lungs to fill more quickly? She didn't know, she couldn't–

She tugged at her own hair, barely noticing the pain through her wave of despair. They were going to die here because Louise couldn't overpower the alchemist on the other side. Shakily, she activated the array–this time, it didn't even spark or glow, her hands were shaking too much. In her desperation, she banged on the door. "Please," she begged as loud as she could. "Please, I don't want to die. I'm–I'm the daughter of the Fullmetal Alchemist, if that means anything to you–"

The world spun again, and she half collapsed against the door, her weight pushing it forward–not enough, never enough, it was reinforced.

Damn her! Damn her and her useless alchemy, if it could even be called that. To her horror, as she felt her shirt collar dampen with tears, she began to hyperventilate, her already shaky breathing hitching with sob. "No, no, no," she whispered, and, in a moment of rage, drew back her fist. With all her remaining strength, she slammed her knuckles into the door–trying to put them through. Instead, she heard a sickening crack as her knuckles broke and fractured under the force of the door, and with a strangled cry she collapsed to the ground.

Her eyesight wasn't getting better–in fact, she could barely stand, from the combination of nausea (if she threw up, that would just be the ultimate humiliation) and dizziness. Instead, she curled against the door, laying down as her tears rolled down her face, and her chest rose unevenly as breathing grew more and more challenging. One last time, one last time she'd try the door.

It clicked open.

What, she thought, and started crying more with relief as she staggered out into the rest of the basement, before going back to drag Tan Xin out.

She managed a few steps forward before the world spun around her once more, and she fell to the ground, crumpled in a wheezing unconscious heap in the hallway.

Louise didn't notice the blonde woman striding out of the library, making her way to the nearest phone booth.

* * *

March 27th, 1944

Lawrence realized he probably didn't have much time to reach the two other girls before they were killed or kidnapped, if he wasn't already too late. Jamie, he thought, might have just saved his sister's life.

It had been random happenstance that had made him bump into the other man on his way back from a college tour, who told him that Alice had been hanging out with Tan Xin and Louise–two other high profile individuals. It had taken a few moments for Lawrence to realize what that meant, but he had run off as soon as he had.

Whoever the kidnapper of Alice was, they wanted Amestrian military to know–after all, if they were all searching for her, an attempt on the life of a foreign princess and the daughter of a national hero would probably go ignored, at least until they found her. It was the only explanation for why they would want the military to know–at least, Lawrence guessed that was the identity of their "anonymous tipper".

He sprinted through the streets of Central, not slowing until he reached the library, where a blonde woman was exiting. Waving her down, he stopped, breathing heavily as he asked her whether she had seen anything strange, or had a Xingese girl and a blonde girl traveling together. For that, he received a confused look, and a denial, and he had darted inside.

"Have you seen two teenagers, both of them girls, probably headed towards the alchemy section?" He quickly asked the librarian, who looked startled but pointed him there, which he ran off to, taking the stairs two or three at a time. Then, he dashed to the back hallway, where he startled at the sight that he saw.

Sure enough, Tan Xin and Louise were collapsed in the hallway, door wide open–Lawrence guessed that they had been locked in together, and had managed to get out somehow. Walking towards them, he sighed in relief as he felt both of their pulses–Tan Xin's was weak, but both were present.

There was another thing–the smell of fresh cut grass permeated the air, and he froze as he realized what it was–phosgene, something he had been told about in basic training, and an Amestrian invention. It was a slow acting chemical weapon that could be deadly with prolonged exposure, like these two had just had.

Realizing he had little idea how long the two had been exposed–two, three hours? Longer? He didn't know, couldn't know, so he picked Tan Xin up first–whatever had happened, she seemed to be the more affected of the two at the moment. Carrying her up the stairs, he told the librarian one thing. "You need to evacuate this building. And I need to use your phone."

She nodded, and he went back down to get Louise. After carrying her back up (the librarian was rounding up the patrons, like he had asked–good, he didn't know how far the gas had spread), he went around to the librarian's phone and called an ambulance. "We're at Central's library, an unknown amount of phosgene's been released, with two young women trapped in a room with it for several hours, both unconscious. Everyone else is currently being evacuated." After the operator confirmed that help was on the way, he (after checking their pulses again) went to round up everyone on the second and third floor.

This, no doubt, was going to be hell to deal with.

* * *

March 27th, 1944

Across the city, in the eastern district, another phone rang, and a blonde man answer the phone, not paying much attention to the bound alchemist across from him. "Hello?" He said calmly into the phone.

" _Dmitri, we fucked up,_ " came the blunt and accented voice from over the line, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm doing fine. What did you do?"

" _There was another girl in the room–an alchemist. The daughter of Fullmetal,"_ Katya said, whispering to him. " _That wasn't part of the plan, I didn't know if that would throw things off_ –"

"What? No, we were just instructed to not–that would have been okay!" He hissed at her, suddenly fully aware that the girl they had to let go could hear everything he was saying–and she knew it too, based off the way she was clearly listening in and smirking.

" _We can't risk it. Don't get too many people involved, that's what he said!"_

He switched to Drachman, hoping that the Fuhrer's daughter didn't know it. "He–he didn't say that at all–okay, can you go back and kill them?"

" _A military man was headed there when I was leaving. It didn't seem like he suspected me, but–"_ There was a pause in her message. " _Shit. Ambulance just passed me. Look, I have to run, and you should too–we'll meet up in that west district place, okay?_ " She laughed, but it was a nervous sound. " _I'll bring hair dye and scissors._ "

"Wait–" he started with, but the line clicked off, leaving him to stare at the phone.

"Having troubles," asked the incredibly annoying Amestrian girl, smug even as she had her wrists tied back. "It certainly sounded like it."

"Not at all," he said, lowering his voice to try and disguise it a bit, as he had been doing when he needed to talk. "Although, I should probably head out. Don't worry, I'm sure that the military will be here for you soon." Then, with a smirk she couldn't see, he tried to sound as annoyed as possible while speaking a bit more quietly. "Looks like I won't be getting paid by those Xingese folks after all." While it wasn't their original plan, hopefully it would still be enough to plant some seeds of doubt between the two countries.

"What?" She asked as he stood up and looked out the shaded windows (and unobscured the front exit) before heading towards the back door. "Wait, why would you–did they pay ransom or something? Hey, listen to me!" What an obnoxious brat, he thought. He was certainly glad to be rid of her.

As he exited out into the cool Central air, relieved to see there weren't any military men around, he began to plan ahead, thinking about how to rework their plans. First things first though–he would need a vehicle, he thought as he smiled at a parked motorcyclist, who grinned back at him.

Then, out of his pocket came a slip of paper–this one with an array. "I am sorry," he told the other man, just before he touched the ground, sending a bolt of asphalt through his heart, killing him instantly.

As he nudged the corpse off of and away from his new vehicle (and removed the license plate with another beam of the street's material), he also took his helmet and jacket (after mending and cleaning the latter with a quick array), donning them without a second thought. While a poor long term disguise, it would help him for now.

It would just be a matter of replanning.

* * *

March 27th, 1944

It had been about twenty minutes since the man had left, and Alice was still no closer to freeing her wrists from the ropes. She had no clue where her arrays had gone, since he had removed her gloves and coat–the latter was frustrating, since that meant he had probably noticed her trying to reach the one embroidered on the inside of it. This also meant that it was probably destroyed–which was super annoying. It had been her favorite for a long time.

Then, she heard the sound of someone slamming at the door. "Yes!" She shouted out. "I'm in here!" Her throat still hurt from her initial round of screaming for help (which, insultingly, he hadn't even tried to stop), but she still had some more left in her. Voices sounded from outside, and the distinctive sound of a door open rang throughout the building.

Someone ran over to her and cut off her blindfold and the ropes around her wrists–Lieutenant Colonel Breda, she recognized, one of her dad's old crew and someone she had seen around Central HQ several times before. "Good, you're alright," he said, pulling her up to her feet. "We've been looking for you for a couple hours–the entrance was hidden with alchemy."

Upon further reflection, the ache she felt in her wrist might have been thanks to the fact that her wrists had been tied tight enough that all the blood flow had been cut off. As she flexed it a bit (and hissed as a jolt of pain ran up her arm), she turned to the officer. "I'm so sorry," she said, earnestly as possible. "I just–I wasn't careful enough."

He led her out of the facility, talking as he went. "Don't apologize to us, apologize to your dad. He's probably worn a hole in his office's carpet by now. And your mom's been outside looking for you too."

"Really? Jeez, that's embarrassing," she muttered, a bit of typical teenage shame flicking through her. "Aw shoot, and I'll have to apologize to Louise and Tan Xin too."

Something showed on Breda's face–what was it though? Nervousness? Anticipation? "Okay...so here's the thing. It turns out that you weren't the main target at all."

Alice's eyes widened as she was put into a military escort car. "What, what do you–"

"Your friends," he said. "Were the target of an assassination attempt, and are currently in the hospital."

"Holy crap," she said, not knowing what else to say as he walked around to get in on the driver's side. "They're alright, right?"

"I don't know their exact condition," he said. "But they're alive–barely though, from what I've heard." After a moment's pause, he continued, his voice slightly less gruff. "I'm sure they'll make a full recovery though. Before you check on them though, I have to take you to the Fuhrer."

For once, Alice didn't argue, lost in her guilt for the actions that had led to her friends' injuries.

* * *

Warnings: Violence (canon typical), kidnapping, pretty strong self hatred.

Well, just one more chapter to wrap up what I consider part 1! Hope you enjoyed it.


	8. Chapter 8

This is the end of part 1 everybody! It'll probably go on a brief hiatus after this: I've got exams coming up, but it'll pick up again during the summer. Thank you if you've come this far!

* * *

" _What is it that you want to show me?" asked Mustang to the young (and frightened looking) scientist. "You said that it was right down this hallway."_

" _Yes, sir, it is. I believe that I have something that could help with our campaign in Drachma, if you wished." Those words didn't exactly comfort Mustang. If this man felt that what he had created could be used in warfare, he surely wasn't going to like it from any moral standpoint. But, he, as Fuhrer, was obligated to see it._

 _Eventually, they reached his lab, and carefully the scientist unlocked the three locks on the door, the keys all on different key rings. A paranoid man, then–or, one with a good secret to keep. "Here we are," he said, gesturing for Mustang to enter._

 _Inside, various chemical instrument lay on work benches, and in the to the side of the tables lay a refrigerator, which the man opened. There, a vat of liquid lay, which he pulled out. "This is phosgene," he said. "Easily alchemized, cheap to produce. And most importantly," he said with a reverent smile, then looking him straight in the eye. "Highly deadly."_

* * *

March 27th, 1944

Alice, after being walked all the way up to her dad's office by armed guards, was greeted with an embrace from her father, which she, after a moment's pause, returned. "Don't," he began, "Ever go missing again. I couldn't handle that."

"Dad, I'm okay, really!" She said, but didn't dare worm her way out of his grasp. In truth, she was still a bit frightened by how easily she had been kidnapped–Alice had always assumed that her alchemy would be strong enough to fend off anyone that tried to capture her–but there wasn't time for that now. First, she had to help fill her father in on what had really happened.

Fortunately, Breda seemed to have the same idea. "Sir, I understand your concern," he said, "But there's more you should know about what happened."

It was at that moment that her mother, Brigadier General Hawkeye, entered the room, greeting her daughter with the same thing she had gotten from her father–just a bit less crushing, like her mother was trying to comfort herself by proving that she was here while her father was trying to comfort himself by proving that she was alive. The moment would have been touching, if not for the general's next words. "You are never leaving the sight of a guard again, young lady," murmured the incredibly stressed out woman.

Alice didn't even have the energy to argue with her, instead collapsing into her arms and accepting the hug. Far too tired to be combative, she accepted the fact that she'd have to fight for the freedom she had grown accustomed to later. "I missed you too, mom," she said instead, until Riza finally let go of her, leaving Breda free to talk again.

"Essentially, we don't believe Alice was the main target here," he began, addressing her parents. "While this was happening, someone tried to kill two of her friends–Louise Elric and Tan Xin Yao, both of whom are children of important individuals, especially the latter. That almost succeeded, too–if they wanted Alice dead, they wouldn't have kidnapped her. Of course, it could be unrelated, but–"

"–There's something else, too," Alice said, piping up from her spot on a couch. "The guy who kidnapped me, he was an alchemist, and while he looked Amestrian–I mean, he was blonde and all– he mentioned that he had been hired by someone from Xing."

"What?" Her father asked, and her mother looked alarmed too. Even Breda, with much less personal stake in the matter, looked surprised. "That's concerning."

"But what would that even mean?" asked her mother. "Could it be someone working against Emperor Ling, and trying to start conflict? He's coming down here soon with his elder daughter, if this had happened while he was here–"

"–We might have been even more caught off guard by it," Roy finished. "And as much as I hate to say it–I've known the emperor since he was a teenager–we have to consider all of our possibilities. He would never do this himself, but perhaps someone in his court–after all, I know that Tan Xin has been off the radar for a couple years now, their real target could have been Louise Elric. We all know that his advisor's have never approved of his and Elric's friendship."

"That would also explain why the assassination attempt stopped," Breda said, considering the option himself. "Maybe, once they discovered that the princess was in there, they didn't dare continue."

"Either way, this will be something Emperor Ling would want to know about," Riza said, looking over to her husband, who nodded in agreement. "He's arriving sometime next week, correct?"

"Yes, in five days," confirmed Roy, who sat back down from where he had been pacing around the room in thought. "I wonder–should we contact him to tell him what's happened? I don't know if we could even get through to him, and what good would it do…it may just worry him more...No, we should. It's the right thing to do."

Then, he looked at Breda. "Either way, the would-be assassin and the kidnapper are still out there somewhere. Breda, you keep searching for them with Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's squad–the longer we delay, the longer time they have to flee or disguise themselves. And as for you, young lady," he said, turning his attention away from the lieutenant colonel and back to Alice. "You're going to be getting a bodyguard."

As expected. Alice really didn't have much to argue against it with, and she would actually feel safer at this exact moment with one. "Alright," she agreed, although she still didn't feel great about the whole thing.

Before her father could tell her anything else, there was a knock at the door. All of them looked over, including Breda, who had been getting ready to leave and opened to door. "Oh, it's you. Yes, the Fuhrer does want to see you. You can go on in."

As he exited, in walked a young man with red eyes, wearing an Amestrian military uniform–a lieutenant, Alice spotted. Likely her guard, if she had to guess. "Fuhrer-President, sir," He said, saluting her father and Alice thought that she could see a tiny tremor in his leg. Her dad wasn't intimidating to her, making it easy for her to forget he was also the leader of the entire country–probably a nerve wracking experience for the soldier.

"Lieutenant Armstrong," greeted her father. "At ease," he said, allowing the man to drop his salute. "I've called you here to be a guard to my daughter as we track down the perpetrators. You were the one who came across Louise Elric and Tan Xin Yao, correct?"

"That's right sir," he said, slightly less tense, but still appropriately formal. "I'm honored to be trusted with this–I'll watch after her."

He didn't seem to bad, even if she hadn't gotten to talk to him yet. Time to change that. "Great!" She said, jumping to her feet and holding out a hand for him to shake (which he, after a moment, accepted). "Well, unless my dad's got anything else to say, I've got place to be, people to see, so we're going to get started immediately."

"Uh, alright…" he said, glancing over to her father, who just sighed.

"There's no use trying to keep her within headquarters, kidnapper on the loose or not. Trust me, we've tried. You have your military car, correct? Keep her in there as much as possible, or at least in a populated building."

"Of course, sir," said her new guard, and as her father dismissed them, they strode out of the office together.

"So," she began. "You were the one who saved my friends? They're–they're alright, right?"

Momentarily, he froze, like he didn't quite know how to respond (which did not help reassure Alice). "Yes, that was me. As for whether they're alright...well, they're both alive. Your friends are certainly resilient–to be perfectly honest, I was worried I would be far too late." Another pause, while she digested to information. "We can go see them, if you like," he offered. "They're in the hospital right now, but visiting hours are still going on."

"Yeah, that'd–that'd actually be really great," she said, lower than her normal tone and averting her eyes in the hope that he wouldn't see the damp spots around the corners of her eyes. "Uh, hey, what's your name? I mean, I'm not really military, so it'd feel weird to call you 'Lieutenant Armstrong', you know?" she said, diverting the conversation. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind.

With a smile, he told her, "Oh, I'm Lawrence. There's something else you should know too, though."

"What is it?" she asked, disappointed that she hadn't quite been successful in moving the conversation away from business.

"Technically, your private room in the library is now a crime scene," he said as they reached the end of the stairs and exited into the courtyard. "So, hopefully you didn't have anything too important in there–investigations is going to have to go over nearly everything in there."

Alice was too stunned to complain, instead feeling her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. Once her father got his hands on anything in there, she was going to be so screwed.

* * *

March 27th, 1944

At first, all she could hear were the murmurs around her–the voices of her father, maybe, and her–was that her uncle? Opening her eyes, Louise received the answer to her question–yes, that was her uncle Alphonse standing over her. As soon as her eyes had fully opened, he turned to her. "Louise? How are you feeling?"

What happened, she asked herself at first, what could he mean? It took a few moments just to wake up, but when she did–

"Oh." She said flatly, lifting up her arms (it seemed that her hand had been healed, fortunately), then turning to look at her uncle. "I'm...I'm alright. Why are you…"

"Could you take a deep breath in for me?" He asked, ignoring the implied question for now. When she did, he frowned, and gestured for her to repeat the motion. Her chest was certainly still tight, and the second breath almost made her cough–even she could still hear the wheeze. "That's not so good," he said, and then turned over to someone else. "Brother, could you go get a doctor? I'm not sure if my alkahestry is advanced enough to get rid of all the fluid in her lungs. Most of it's gone, but we really need to be sure."

Her father looked worse than she had ever seen him, and she had seen him when he had to grade nearly one hundred subpar alchemy exams. "Yeah, sure," he said, and walked out into the hallway to go get them. Then, Alphonse turned back over to her.

"Do you remember everything that happened?" He asked.

"Yeah...yeah," she said, trying to strengthen her voice. "Is Tan Xin okay?"

"She's going to be fine," he soothed, "Your aunt's in her room now, since she was in a bit worse shape than you. You're lucky that you managed to get out–I heard you used alchemy to escape," he said, sounding proud of her, but it only added insult to injury.

"No, that wasn't me," she said, trying to sit up a bit. "Whoever was trying to kill us just unlocked the door and ran. My arrays didn't actually do much."

She felt sort of bad for the resulting look on his face–it seemed he realized that he had hit a nerve. Still, he continued to talk to her. "Your friend Alice came by a few hours ago," he said, changing the subject. "Apparently, while this was going on, she had been kidnapped–everyone investigating it thinks that is was to keep her away from you two. She was really worried about you and Tan Xin–and don't worry, she wasn't hurt at all," he added, seeing the look of panic on her face. "She said that she would be back later today, if you want to see her for yourself."

"I'm definitely glad she wasn't there," said Louise, mollified by the assurance that Alice had been okay–and feeling guilty that she hadn't gone looking for her earlier. If she had, maybe none of them would have gotten in this situation. "What–what even happened?"

"Someone tried to kill you both," he said, quietly but earnestly. "We still don't know why, but don't worry–both of you are under surveillance, and they wouldn't attack a hospital, there's too many risks involved."

The door opened back up, revealing her father and a doctor, who walked across the room, stethoscope in hand. "So, how are you feeling?" She asked, and Louise described her condition as best she could.

After placing the stethoscope to her chest (and humming concernedly at the sounds), she moved away again. "We don't have much information on phosgene, but from what the military has told us–" and that made everyone wince, because that was as sign that whoever had done this had connections, or that there was a serious leak of information somewhere "–it should just clear up on its own. We have to monitor you for two days, but after that you'll be free to go."

"Thanks," Louise said, pleased at the fact that her voice didn't break in the middle of the word. As the doctor left, she turned to back to her uncle and father. "Where's mom and Jamie?"

At that, Alphonse chuckled. "You're only allowed two visitors at once, so me and brother came first to make sure that you would be okay–we can let them in if you want."

"Yeah, it'd be nice to see them," she said. "But first–" She stood up, since she didn't seem to have any IVs or needles in her, and collapsed into her dad.

He hugged her back, and she didn't even try to pretend she wasn't crying. "I'm really sorry," she said, and though he didn't cry (he never cried. It was a bad habit of his, bottling up his emotion), she could tell that he was holding back.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told her, before leaving the room with her uncle, and she wiped away her tears as she laid back down in the bed.

(When her mother and brother came in, she would have people to cry with. Especially once her brother nearly broke all her ribs with a bone-shattering hug.)

* * *

March 27, 1944

When Tan Xin woke up, there was only one family member to greet her–her aunt Mei, who looked surprised that when she opened her eyes and immediately tried to run for the door.

"Where," she said as she grabbed her by the scruff of her hospital gown, "are you going?"

"Don't like hospitals," she wheezed, coughing when she heard how wretched her lungs sounded. "Oh, holy crap, what–oh. Oh," said Tan Xin as she remembered what had happened. "Auntie Mei, I'm so sorry, you had to come all the way up here–"

"–It's not an issue," she said, "As long as you lay back down. I still need to finish working on your lungs–you got a higher dosage of the gas than Louise did."

"Louise! How is she? Is–is she okay?" She asked, as poor Mei tried desperately to get her to stay still and get her back in the array (which was drawn on a piece of paper laid on the bed). "She's alright, right?"

Mei placed her hands back to the hospital bed, and the array glowed. Tan Xin's instincts told her to get out of the glowing alkahestry thing–firmly ignoring it, she tried to stay still, failing as she felt something inside her (in her lungs, maybe?) melt away. "Is Louise alright," she asked again, and her aunt pinned her back in place (as she had tried to sit up again in the middle of the question).

"She's going to be alright," Mei said, straightening out the sheet with the array on it. "You were more heavily affected than she was, and I'm sure that Alphonse can handle it!"

As she lay there, Mei continued to talk about what had happened. "Someone tried to kill the two of you," she said as she finished fixing the array. "After you fell unconscious, Louise managed to open the door, and dragged you out. After that, a military officer found you two. His name was Lawrence, I think."

"Lawrence?" She repeated, resisting the urge to squirm again. Tan Xin really wanted out of this place. "Small world, I guess."

After that, they were silent for a while–Tan Xin had always felt that out of her nieces and nephews, her brother Fu was her favorite. Thanks to the fact that their interactions had been limited to her getting hurt and Mei needing to come in and heal her with alkahestry, she was pretty sure that she was towards the bottom of that list. Unfortunate, considering that her cousin Mairon seemed to adore her.

Eventually, she decided to ask. "Hey, did you bring Mairon with you?" The kid was absolutely precious, and liked listening to Tan Xin (making them completely unique in the world). It'd be nice if she got to see them. Also, Auntie Mei liked talking about her kid. In fact, as she mentioned them, her face softened.

"Alphonse and I did bring them up here–they're still a little too young for us to want to leave them alone. After all the phosgene is out of your system, I can bring them here. I know that you two get along well." If she was thinking that she didn't know why this was the case, it almost didn't show on her face.

"That'd be awesome," said Tan Xin.

After about fifteen more minutes of her having to stay perfectly still, her aunt pulled away, telling her that she was pretty sure that she had purged the last of the chemical from her system. She also told Tan Xin something else, this one more exciting–she, apparently, had visitors.

As Mei walked out, two more people entered–Lawrence and Alice, the latter of which immediately rushed over to her. "Tan Xin! Great, you're awake now. When I came by the first time you looked god-freakin-awful." She then collapsed onto Tan Xin's bed, embracing her even at the awkward angle (ow). "I'm so glad you're okay, you obnoxious little shit. I'd just gone to visit Louise–she's up too, by the way, but I got kicked out so her family could go back in. And–oh, wait! Tan Xin, this is Lieutenant Armstrong, the guy who saved you and Louise. He's, uh, currently my bodyguard."

"We've met," Lawrence said from the corner, where he was keeping an eye on the room. "Tan Xin, it's nice to see you again, although I wish it had been under different circumstances."

"Yeah, you and me both," murmured Tan Xin, who then spoke a little louder. "Thanks for coming to visit me, you guys. It–It means a lot to me, since I'm so far from home and all…"

"Hey, it's not an issue! Oh, by the way, something else happened too…"

As Alice told her what had happened to her, Tan Xin began to get a sinking feeling that this whole plot might be deeper than she expected.

* * *

March 27, 1944

The Vasilievs had agreed to meet in one of the small towns outside of Central if anything had gone wrong (always, always have a contingency plan, they had learned early in their careers, after Katya had been tracked halfway across Aerugo after killing a senator, and Dmitri had been left hoping she wasn't dead as he waited two days for a signal), and as she sat alone in the train car (her hair down, colored contacts placed in, and suit ditched for a simple dress, a pathetic disguise but it was what she had) she wondered how her brother would arrive. Unlike her, he avoided using public transportation when he didn't have to–another reason for the private train car–so he probably wasn't anywhere on this train.

Eventually, the train came to a halt, and Katya, after grabbing her bag, exited with the rest of the passengers (although, considering the stop, there weren't many). To anyone around her, she would appear to be a normal woman, maybe going on a visit to see her family. Which, all considered, wasn't actually that far off.

They had stayed at their meeting place once before, which, in their opinion, was usually one time too many. However, they hadn't operated in Central for a few years at this point, so it was unlikely that anyone would remember them–it might be a small town, but it did have a train station. Strangers weren't as unusual as they would be considered elsewhere. Besides, the place where they were headed had a phone–most importantly, one not tracked by the military.

As she walked, she noticed an ache in her side–in all the adrenalin of getting as far away as possible, she had bumped up against a sharp corner, bruising her side. With a small smile, she reassured herself that even if she hadn't been entirely successful, her would-be victim was certainly suffering more than she was. She couldn't help but wonder how close to death they had come–surely, enough to be hospitalized, she reasoned. But how long would they stay under surveillance? What if she caused permanent lung damage?

She hoped she caused permanent lung damage.

Working with chemical weapons, she had long ago decided, was a much more satisfying method of killing people than just using a gun, or other alchemic techniques. It was subtler, really gave people the time to realize that they were going to die–like watching someone bleed out, but without all the mess. Her brother–he had his vengeance, his grand plans of justice. She just had the satisfaction of either a job well done or knowing that she had caused some havoc along the way–in an ideal situation, she had both.

As she reached the building–an inconspicuous hotel, not shabby but not fancy–she tried to straighten out her side. Limping, even the smallest wince, might make people ask questions.

"Hey there," she said, greeting the receptionist, who looked up at her, unconcerned and unsuspecting. "I'm sorry, has a Matthias Harrison checked in here recently?"

"Yes, he's in room 292," she said to Katya. "You're his…"

"Cousin," she responded, hoping that they looked different enough for that to work. With her hair down, they looked a little more alike–it took away the contrast of his seemingly unstyled hair and her careful designs, leaving her looking like a longer-haired version of him. Hopefully, the contacts were enough.

It was their policy to go ask the person if they were waiting for someone before sending someone up, something that Katya was normally grateful for, but now found a bother as she waited alone in the lobby. Eventually, the other woman came back down, and told her that she was clear to go up. With no other obstacles, she climbed up the stairs–not two at a time like she normally did, it wouldn't quite work with the dress–and entered the hallway, eventually finding the room, and smiled when she did. A bit of careful observation showed that no other rooms around it were occupied, meaning that as long as they were careful and quiet they could talk some–a good choice on her brother's part.

With a knock on the door, she was allowed entry, noting that Dmitri looked more tired than normal. His flat eyes took on a sheen of exhaustion, his shoulders had sunk down–not to mention the fact that he had clearly changed as well–if she had to guess, he had transmuted his suit into the grey shirt he was wearing now, and the leather jacket hanging up on the chair was probably stolen.

Looking over to where her gaze had fallen made him chuckle a bit after he closed the door behind her, and he walked over the jacket. "The wallet was in the left pocket," he murmured, lifting it out and showing the decent wad of cash inside of it to her. "Lucky for us."

"Lucky for us," she repeated, counting it up–maybe about 2000 cenz inside, certainly enough for the room. "Everything on your end work out okay?" She asked, hoping that he hadn't experienced any troubles because of her ineptitude. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, an unfortunate sense of shame began to rear its head–the only person she didn't care to disappoint stood in front of her, after all.

"Yes, it was all okay," he said, not daring to elaborate. Despite the distance between them and the rest of the hotel's inhabitants, they couldn't speak in too much detail–they didn't have any more room for error. "The phone's over there, if you want to call him."

Ah, so that was the price she had to pay for her failure–being the one to report it. With a slight curse in her twin's direction (to which he rolled his eyes), she walked over to the phone and punched the number in–though they had since destroyed the physical slip of paper that had the contact on it, both of them had memorized it. Putting on her best smile (for some reason, it helped her talk more cheerfully), she waited for the man (Shun, was it?) to pick up.

To her surprise, however, it wasn't his voice that answered the phone. " _Hello?_ " said a woman's voice on the other end of the line, which Dmitri apparently heard to, based off of the startled expression in his eyes as he looked at her. " _I'm very sorry, who is this?_ "

"Oh, our apologies ma'am, we must have gotten the wrong number," Katya said, already trying to recount it in her head–had it really been that? She must have gotten it wrong, she must have–

" _Wait,_ " commanded the voice, with natural power, and Katya found herself obeying. " _You're–you sound Drachman. Who–oh! Of course, I see. It's a pleasure to meet you, even if it's not in person, Ms. Vasiliev._ "

And at that, Katya's blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Little could scare the woman, but being so easily recognized–that was something no assassin wanted. "How do you…"

" _My sincerest apologies! I'm part of the operation, no worries,_ " said the woman–who still had not given them her name. " _Ah, how to prove it...well, the man's name, the one that you met, his name is Shun. And you two are Dmitri and Katya...you asked for ninety thousand cenz, thirty thousand of which we gave you up front. Will that suffice?_ " She finished, and Katya blinked in surprise.

"Yes, of course," she said, "But could I ask who I'm speaking to?"

" _Oh, that's hardly important,"_ said the voice, " _But, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Was it, perhaps, of your failure to kill Tan Xin?_ "

"How did you–" Katya began to ask, suddenly frightened by the information network their employers seemed to have. The woman just laughed, the sound surprisingly clear over the phone.

" _Don't be so worried. Fix your mistakes, and there will be no repercussions. And besides,_ " she said. " _We'll be down there soon enough to help out. You two just sit tight._ "

The phone clicked–whoever that woman had been, she had no issues sacrificing politeness for drama.

It also seemed that her brother had been correct–whatever they had gotten themselves into was far deeper than just one person with a vendetta.


End file.
